Heartlines
by Nautical Paramour
Summary: When the Grangers can't afford to pay their food rent, they give their only child, Hermione to the Rowles. Raised in their household, Thorfinn has come to expect that she will always be around, even when he finds someone to marry. Unfortunately for him, she's also caught King Tom Slytherin's eye. Historical AU. Anglo-Saxon AU. Thorfinn x Hermione. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello everyone! Here is the first chapter of a story that I have been really excited about for a long time. It's a historical AU set in Anglo-Saxon England, and it will be taking place in the imaginary kingdom of Slytherin. Don't expect this to be _too_ historically accurate, but I wanted to add some interesting things in this. Just a heads up that Thorfinn is not _really_ a Viking, so don't expect that kind of story. Also, Hermione is mean to be a Celtic Briton, which were the people there before the Saxons came to England. Please let me know if there are any questions or if you all are just completely confused. Should I include like a little glossary of the various terms I've used here? I'm not a historian, but I also don't want it to be overwhelming, so just yeah...let me know what you'd prefer!

Huge thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

I'm really nervous about this one for some reason, so please let me know what you think of it! And be on the lookout for chapter two soon!

* * *

By the time they'd reached Granger's lands, Thorfinn was aching from the distance they'd traveled on horseback, but he knew better than to complain. He knew it was a great honor to be invited to see to his father's duties with him, and he wouldn't muck it up by acting like a child. That was a sure way to end up back home, helping his mother watch after his younger sister.

Thorfinn's father, Ivar, was an Earl tasked with overseeing nearly one-hundred hides of land by King Salazar himself. He ruled in the King's stead over the fourteen thegns that fell within just part of the King's lands. It meant that he was required to collect the food rent from those surrounding areas, the task that Thorfinn was currently assisting with.

Thorfinn looked up at his father, his long blond hair held back tightly in a braid, his beard neatly trimmed. He was a strong warrior, Thorfinn knew, but fair as well. Thorfinn was proud of his father. Ivar had come from across the sea when he was just a boy, first landing in Ireland to make his wealth and find land. Eventually he came to Salazar's lands. He'd once been nothing more than a thegn himself, having crossed the seas many times to conduct trade on behalf of the King, using his knowledge of seafaring from his younger years going viking. Salazar had looked favorably on his father, finding him an Anglo-Saxon wife and giving him a modest home. Over time, Ivar had proved himself endlessly useful to the King, even fighting alongside him in war before Thorfinn was born, and the King had rewarded him by making him Earl.

Now, at age ten, Thorfinn knew he wanted nothing more than to be a thegn and an Earl just like his father. His older brother Eirik had already been granted lands by the King at age ten and nine, and Thorfinn was sure that he'd be granted similar privileges when he came of age. However, if he hoped to ascend to Earl like his father, Thorfinn would have to watch carefully and perform well.

That was why he would not complain about how fierce his arse ached after a day of riding, least his father tell him that he'd no long be able to ride horseback again until he grew up a bit more. His mother already detested that he'd begun training in combat even though he was no longer a child. In his father's culture, it was likely that he'd already have killed a man at his age.

But, Thorfinn had also been more than enthused to join his father on this particular quest, mostly because he was endlessly curious about the Grangers, a family that lived on the very edge of King Salazar's lands.

The Grangers, it was said, were Britons, descended from the old culture of their great lands, before the Romans had even arrived. They had not assimilated into Anglo-Saxon culture, and did not follow the Angl0-Saxon way or their god, but they did join into their society tentatively, relenting to the rule of the land.

Thorfinn's belly twisted the closer they got to Granger's land, thinking about all the horrid things he'd heard about the Britons, and he wondered just what they would find when they arrived at their hut. His father wasn't worried in the slightest, but Thorfinn couldn't help but conjure the horrific and brutal things that might happen to them.

The Britons, it was said, were immensely fierce in battle, despite their primitive ways. He'd heard tales of how they would remove the heads of their enemies in battle and tie them to their horses. They would cover their bodies in tattoos and woad, making their bodies an eerie blue color that distinguished them from men. He wondered if Granger would look like that? Would he cut Thorfinn's head off and proudly display his head from a stick in front of his house?

Of course, he knew that his father would never allow that to happen to him, and further, this was meant to be a friendly visit.

They crested another ridge, and Thorfinn was just able to make out the top of the earthen home, one that looked so small and odd compared to their own home. His father halted his horse, and Thorfinn came up beside him. "That is the home of the Grangers," his father said sternly, but softly. "They are different from most, but you will respect him. Understood?" he questioned.

Thorfinn jerked his head in ascent, so curious about what it was that they were going to see. He eagerly pulled his horse into a trot to keep pace with his father, scarcely breathing when they came to a stop, dismounting from their horses easily. Perhaps hearing the approaching hoofbeats, a trio of people emerged from inside the home, staring out at the approaching men proudly.

The Grangers were not painted with blue woad, to Throfinn's dismay. Instead, they seemed unnaturally pale, as though he might be able to see the muscle working beneath the skin. The man was covered with a few large blue tattoos, though, most noticeably the roaring mauw of a lion was unmistakable through the laces of his tunic. The woman also had tattoos, though hers were smaller and less prevalent, flowers and swirls adorned the bits of her legs that he could see under her woolen dress. The third person was a small girl who seemed completely unadorned. All three of them had wild brown hair and serious, dark eyes. The smallest, a daughter it would seem, was willowy and thin, making her look like some kind of wood sprite, her hair seeming to make up the most of her mass.

"Jarl Ivar," Granger called out with a nod. "We've been expecting your visit," he said slowly. "Please, join us inside."

Thorfinn follows his father eagerly inside, looking around curiously. It is nothing at all like his home, and he cannot imagine living somewhere like this, so cramped and close to everyone else. There is no evidence of any other children, only the one wild little girl. Their table was next to the small hearth, with a pitiful fire crackling inside of it.

"Eni, thank you for your hospitality," his father said softly, looking at the meager spread of food that was presented to them. Thorfinn bristled seeing it though - this was certainly not an offering worthy of a powerful Earl like his father. It was insulting. He held his tongue, though, sitting upright and staring at these Britons in confusion. Did they not know the error that they had made. "You will know that I've come for the foodrent."

Eni nodded, looking down sadly at the horn of ale in his hand. "And you will know that I have no foodrent to pay you," he said with a sigh. "Half of the harvest was destroyed by blight and what little was left behind was pilfered by the Danes. I don't know how I will feed my own family this winter."

Thorfinn seethed, wondering how it was possible that this man had ever achieved the status of thegn in the first place. Certainly it was his principal duty to maintain food for his household, and for the King. If he wasn't able to do so, he should be striped of his duty. His father would have to find someone more suitable to take care of this land.

His father did not seem upset, though. "I understand. My own harvests were also affected by the blight. It must be hard for you out on the periphery of the King's lands. We must speak to him about additional defenses against the Danes."

Eni looked overwhelmed and grateful for the suggestion. "That would be appreciated Jarl Ivar. However, I do have something that might be sufficient to pay for the foodrent."

"Speak freely, Eni," his father said grimly. Thorfinn was astonished that this outsider was going to get away with not paying his foodrent! And that his father would speak up on the man's behalf. He was so confused and offended that he could barely hold his tongue.

"My daughter, Hermione. You might have a use for her in your household," the Briton said, running his hand down the back of the girl's wild brown hair. She looked at the two outsiders with wide eyes and a sullen look, as though she were expecting it.

Ivar smiled down at the wisp of a girl. "I have a daughter, nearly seven years old, called Leoflaed. She is in need of a companion at this age, and my wife could also use the assistance around the farmstead."

At this, Thorfinn could no longer hold his tongue, gasping that his father seemed to actually be considering the offer that the other man had made. "Father, you can't be serious!" he said suddenly. "Her weregeld wouldn't even pay for one tenth of their foodrent! She's just a little girl," he snarled.

"Thorfinn, silence," his father snapped icily, making his blood instantly run cold, knowing that he'd made a mistake talking out of turn. "You will wait outside with the horses if you cannot behave," he instructed, with a glare that had Thorfinn biting his tongue. Arguing with his father, begging to stay, would do little to get his father to change his mind.

Feeling annoyed, he returned to wait outside by his horse, a tan colored beast with hair as blond as his own. He didn't understand why his father was agreeing to take in that little girl, who was not actually likely to help his family for many years. She would be too small to carry out even the most basic of tasks, and he didn't see why Leoflaed would need a companion, but he supposed that if it meant less time spent with his little sister dogging his heels, he wouldn't complain too much.

He wasn't sure how long he'd stood in the dying light of the day, but eventually his father came out to join him. "Where is the girl?" he asked aloud, seeing that the Grangers had not joined him outside. Maybe he'd come to his senses and decided to leave her behind, here where she belonged.

"Hermione is saying goodbye to her parents, and then we will return home," his father informed him, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Ivar stared at his son with steely blue eyes, looking at him curiously. "You know, your mother argued with me about bringing you on this trip. She insisted that you were not ready, that you were just a boy," he said, disappointment evident in his voice.

"But I am ready, father," he pleaded, trying hard not to sound like a spoiled child. "I promise that I am ready. I want to grow up to be an Earl just like you - strong, and, and powerful," he said, dropping his eyes to the grass beneath their feet. His father often seemed larger than life to him, impossibly big and imposing. Thorfinn often felt like he was the most powerful man in all of King Salazar's lands, only made more obvious by his refusal to leave behind his Northman way - from his long hair to the way he spoke.

"Being a thegn is not a given," Ivar told him with a frown. "Yes, you are my child, but the King's requirement to our family ends with Eirik's claim. You will have to prove yourself, and request lands from the King yourself when you are ready. He will only grant them to you if he should find you worthy of the honor."

Thorfinn nodded quickly, knowing that it was true. Still, he knew that he'd be able to get the King's favor. After all, he'd been watching his father for as long as he could remember, and he wanted to follow in his example. "I will do everything in my power to become worthy," he said eagerly.

"You are not ready if you insist on speaking out of turn, when you don't understand the situation. Listening to the instructions of your father is a good place to start," Ivar said sharply. He sighed, running a hand over his face. "Granger is not so different from I. We both respect each other on the fact that neither of us is Saxon, but we are forced to live in this society. If you wish to rule, to be a thegn even, then you must realize that not every situation is so simple."

Thorfinn was distressed. "But father, he couldn't pay the foodrent. Who will pay that now? Who will tell the King? I doubt Salazar will be impressed with a small girl," he said grumpily, still not seeing her utility.

Ivar crouched down so that he could look into his son's eyes. "Ruling is not all about demanding foodrent. Sometimes, you must show a bit of compassion to the people. Removing Eni or punishing him will not endear me to any of the people of this land, nor will it feed them. The fact of the matter is...Eni likely cannot feed that girl through the winter. If we did not take her with us, then she would die," he said with a sigh, before turning to look at the setting sun.

Thorfinn scoffed at the idea that Hermione would be able to contribute anything to their household, but knew that he wouldn't get anywhere arguing with his father over it anymore. Better to let the girl show how useless she was, and then...then maybe they could find someone else to give her to.

Before he could ponder the newest member of his household anymore, all three Grangers were leaving their house together, the tiniest of their household with tears fresh on her cheeks. Thorfinn sneered at her, finding even more evidence that she was a weakling. Her mother crouched down to the girl's level, wrapping her up in a tight embrace, before pulling up the sleeve of her threadbare dress.

There, just above her elbow, was a brilliant flash of blue, encircling her tiny bird arm. From all that Thorfinn could see, it seemed that it was just a series of small dots, no true design yet revealed. He was surprised to see that a girl as small as her had a tattoo as well.

"Remember, Hermione, you will always be one of us - a proud Brigante," the mother whispered, wiping the tears from her young daughter's face. "And if you ever need proof, you just have to look here," she said, her fingers tracing the tattoo lovingly. "Never forget us, and we will never forget you."

The words that were meant to bolster the young girl only served to make her sob harder, wrapping her arms around her mother. "I don't want to leave you," she begged. "Please don't make me go."

The sight had Thorfinn frowning, seeing how sad she seemed. He would have thought such a pitiful emotional display would have had him feeling disgusted with her behavior, but really, he just felt bad for the girl. Needing something else to focus his mind on, he mounted his horse once again.

His father mirrored his actions, guiding his horse over to the small family. "I am sorry, Eni, but we must leave now," he said, legitimately sounding upset at having to break up the family unit.

The man nodded, pulling his young daughter from her mother's arms, and handing him to the Northman. Ivar pulled Hermione to sit on the horse in front of him, his arms wrapping around her to hold her securely on the horses back. She sat on the horse as practiced as any Northman, furthering the illusion that she was some kind of nature spirit. Her wild hair was nearly in his father's face, and Thorfinn couldn't wait to see what his mother would make of the girl.

"Be good, Hermione," Eni instructed sternly.

Hermione bit her lower lip, before nodding fiercely, her face transformed. She wiped furiously at the drying tears on her cheeks, forcing herself to stop and gain control of her emotions, forced to act grown up, even though she couldn't have been much older than six or seven years.

With a final goodbye, they were on their way, galloping across the land, trying to make as much time between now and nightfall. Thorfinn grumbled to himself knowing that they were likely to have to camp outside overnight. His father kept a fast pace with his horse, and it was difficult for Thorfinn to keep up.

None of the the three riders talked on the long journey back away from Granger's lands. When they finally stopped for the night, the moon was high and round in the sky. Thorfinn didn't make any effort to speak to the interloper, still finding her too unusual and odd to speak to, but at least she wasn't crying anymore.

Staring across the small fire, he watched as she tore into the offered rabbit that his father had given her once it was cooked. Obviously she was very hungry and grateful for the meal, but she wasn't inclined to even thank him for the new offering.

Digging his hands into the dirt, Thorfinn tried to remember what his father had said about ruling with compassion. He didn't want to give this little creature any compassion, but he knew that he should try if he wanted to become a good thegn someday. He couldn't say that he understood why his father would agree to take the girl as foodrent, when she was likely to end up costing more to feed in the long run, but he would try to push it from his mind. It wouldn't do for his father to think that he wasn't listening to his suggestions again.

As they laid down for sleep, Thorfinn stared at her once again, remembering the tattoo that she'd been fierce enough to receive. Perhaps there was more to Hermione the Briton than he expected.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last time! Seriously, I've been blown away by the response! So, this chapter is a bit of transition chapter, as Thorfinn and Hermione grow up, and then the next chapter will get us into the main heart of the story. I've added a glossary to my tumblr (nauticalparamour) where you can follow me for story updates, sneak peeks, and you can ask questions. I am going to try to include the link here and hopefully it doesn't get tripped up by ffnet. nauticalparamour dot tumblr dot com /post/174995062815/heartlines-glossary Just replace the dots with '.' and remove the spaces :)

Please let me know what you thought of chapter two and be on the lookout for chapter three later this week!

* * *

They reached the homestead the next day - the place that Hermione would now call home. Thorfinn watched as his mother raised one of her eyebrows in confusion at seeing the feral looking creature nestled in front of his father on his horse, but she did not say anything to indicate that she was upset. Instead, she walked forward, looking stately and kind, with Leoflaed tucked behind her dress.

Ivar dismounted from the horse, grabbing Hermione by the waist to set her down on the ground. She looked around nervously, her eyes wide and in awe seeing as their home was significantly larger than the small hut she'd been living in for the rest of her life.

"Hello sweet one. My name is Osthryth," his mother said with a smile, crouching down to look Hermione in the eyes. "And this is my daughter Leoflaed," she said pushing his sister forward. While Thorfinn took after his father, his sister was nearly a mirror image of his mother, with her brown eyes and light green eyes. "What is your name?"

Hermione bit her lower lip again, regarding his mother and sister with interest, before ultimately deciding that they were safe. "Hermione, daughter of Eni," she said softly. Thorfinn realized that this was the first time he'd heard her speak in nearly a whole day.

"Hermione will be living with us now, as Leoflaed's companion," Ivar said, pressing one of his large hands on Hermione's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Won't you like that, darling?" he asked his daughter.

Leoflaed cracked a grin, before nodding. Stepping forward she gave Hermione a little bow. "I'm Leoflaed. I'm going to be seven in a sennight," she said brightly, showing off her crooked teeth.

Hermione returned the smile tentatively. "I'm seven after the winter," she said with equal enthusiasm.

Osthryth smiled at the two girls, hopeful that they would become friends. "Hermione, Leoflaed and I were just about to go to the stream to bathe. You will come with us, and afterwards, we shall find you a most beautiful dress," she said encouragingly.

Although Anglo-Saxons were not frequent bathers, his father's people were quite fastidious about their cleanliness. While she'd initially been put off by the idea, his mother had quickly embraced Ivar's tradition of bathing weekly, and their children did as well, even if the other thegns and nobles thought it was more than a little odd. Hermione, it seemed, was one of those people who thought it was strange, but she was quickly won over by the idea of a new dress.

By the time that the three women returned from the stream, it seemed that Hermione's thunderous mood from the day prior had returned. It was clear from her ruddy cheeks that she had been crying once again, though she held her tears back the best that she could. Now, even trussed up in her new green dress, she looked miserable.

Thorfinn watched as his mother guided Hermione to sit at her feet while she used a comb to pick through the chaos of her brown hair, unweaving tiny braids that she found here and there. It was strange to see how affected Hermione was by this act, Thorfinn thought, but he wondered if this had something to do with what her mother had whispered about her always remembering she was a Brigante. The memory of the bright blue tattoo on her arm flashed in his mind.

It took a long time, until the fire was glowing low in the hearth, for his mother to work through all the tangles and the wildness of her hair. Hermione was trying to hide her sniffling at the end, unable to hold back the tears at this point. Her hair eventually lost its volume as his mother combed it into submission. It was clear that Hermione's hair would never be tame and stick straight like it's sister, but she no longer seemed like a unnatural spirit.

After dinner, the _children_ were instructed to go to bed. Thorfinn detested being called a child, when clearly he was _nearly_ a man, but he did as his parents commanded. However, sleep would not come to him, his attention split between the tiny sniffles coming from Hermione's bedding, the soft snores of Leoflaed, and his parent's hushed whispers from the table.

"The poor thing, she's as thin as a rail," his mother whispered to his father, thinking about the little girl that they had welcomed into her family.

His father's low rumbling voice answered. "Yes, and though she tries to act fierce, she is more hurt than she shows," he answers. "I am sure Eni told her that she would be leaving, but it is a hard task to ask of a child as young as she."

"It's a task she _shouldn't_ be asked to do," his mother snaps at his father out of frustration. Although they have survived, it hasn't been an easy year for any member of the Kingdom of Slytherin.

His father grunts in response. "Eni has said that she shows and aptitude for sums and has begun learning to read and write. And that she has a way with animals," he said. "However, I think it would be best if we gave her a chance to adjust. I don't want to overwhelm the girl."

Silence followed his pronouncement and Thorfinn quickly surmised that his mother had pulled his father in for a kiss. His parents did not hide their affection for one another, showing the success of their marriage, even though it had been arranged by their King. Thorfinn was sure he'd have a gaggle of siblings between him and his older brother Eirik if it hadn't been for the war that had pulled his father away from his mother for so many years.

He didn't think that it sounded very fair that Hermione would have time off from chores. And...he also didn't believe that she could do sums. She was just a girl. He'd have to wait and see, he supposed.

* * *

It seemed that naught more than a blink of an eye had passed, but suddenly Thorfinn's family was celebrating Hermione's tenth birthday. She'd easily nestled herself into their family, becoming a close friend with Leoflaed, the two girls running off during their free time and giggling profusely. His mother had made it a habit to spend time brushing Hermione's hair after every bath, and it became somewhat of a ritual between the two of them, his mother explaining various aspects of Anglo-Saxon womanhood to her because she hadn't grown up learning them.

Ivar doted on her, especially when she proved incredibly useful with the keeping of the farmstead. She'd more than proved her skill with sums, and now Ivar had even contacted the local bishop to request she gain further schooling, only to be rebuked for trying to educate a woman. Eirik had grown to enjoy her feisty little spirit when he came to visit. He saw her so few and far between, but that didn't stop him from calling her sister.

Hell, even the fucking _goats_ liked her, Thorfinn thought darkly.

The rest of his family might see her as one of them, but Thorfinn would never forget the promise that her mother had extracted from her the day she left them - that she was a Brigante and that she would never forget it. He would never think of her as his sister.

Seeing as it was _her_ birthday, she'd been granted a day free of chores and his father had promised them a buck for dinner. The three of them - Thorfinn, Leoflaed and Hermione - fled out into the forest to play games all day. It wasn't an unusual activity, Thorfinn joining the two girls in their games, though he often left them to their own devices.

Still, even being thirteen, he wasn't above playing the fair hero - the Earl, the _King_. Carefully orchestrated stories of Leoflaed and Hermione being snatched away by dragons or other beasts or Danes were crafted, and Thorfinn was always counted on to run in and save the day, rescuing the girls, with his _real_ sword. He was only too happy to show it off since he'd been gifted it at his birthday the year prior.

Looking at Leoflaed's broad grin, he should have known to be suspicious of her intentions. "Hermione should be Queen," she said with a giggle, looking at her friend with a freshly made flower crown in her hair, now that spring had exploded in a wash of green. His little sister smiled up at him sweetly, trying to bend him to her will with a look.

"That's ridiculous," he said with a huff, resting his hand on the pommel of his sword as if to remind them that _he_ was the man grown. He was the only one who'd been bestowed such an honor out of the three of them. "I'm always the leader," he said with a huff.

Leoflaed rolled her eyes. "It's Hermione's birthday! She should be Queen."

"But I have the sword, Leoflaed," he argued back. "And besides, I have the rich history of the gods in my veins. I am descended of Ivar, son of Ragnar, and of Woden himself," Thorfinn postured proudly, sticking out his chest.

At this pronouncement, Hermione hopped off the felled log that she had been resting on. "So what if you are Thorfinn, son of Ivar. There is _no way_ that you are descended of Woden," she said with a scoff, her hands on her hips, trying to make herself look stern. There was no way that would work on Thorfinn, though.

"It is true! You are just jealous that I've got gods' blood and you are nothing more than a Briton," he said with a sneer. He'd never been afraid to point out that he'd never accepted her as part of their family, and the way he did that was reminding her that she was nothing more than a Celt.

Hermione stepped forward with a frown. "Yes, I am a Briton," she said, jutting her chin out proudly. "I am a Brigante - and I _should_ be Queen," she said leveling him with a stare that had him sucking in his breath in surprise. "Afterall, I have the blood of Cartimandua herself in my veins."

That shut Thorfinn up. He was embarrassed to say that he had no idea _who_ Cartimandua was, but he wasn't about to let Hermione know that. "Yeah, well what's so great about him?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

She smirked at him, before rolling her eyes at him. " _She_ was a Queen of the Brigantes, by right," she said with a proud look on her face. " _My_ people are not so frightened by a woman so as not to let her rule when she is the best candidate," she explained, obviously still annoyed at being rebuked by the priests to further her education.

He was surprised to hear that the Britons had their own Queens, seeing as in Anglo-Saxon culture the King's wife couldn't even be called a Queen. It just wasn't _done._ He didn't necessarily agree with that way of thinking, so he found himself sort of admiring that they would allow it.

Leoflaed was looking at Hermione was starry eyes. "Are you really descended from a _real_ Queen, Hermione?" she asked eagerly.

Hermione colored at the question. "Well, yes," she said with a shrug. "But...Cartimandua was eventually betrayed by her husband, so..." she trailed off.

Thorfinn cleared his throat. "Well...I suppose, since it's your birthday, you can be Queen just this once," he said, before dropping to his knee. He pulled out his sword and placed it in the ground. "My sword is yours, my Queen," he said, teasing her just a bit.

Hermione stared down at him in shock for a moment, before a smile spread across her face. "Arise, Thorfinn, son of Ivar," she said, sounding every bit as regal as a Queen _should_. "I have a quest for you. The fair lady Leoflaed has been abducted by a dragon," she voiced, easily dropping into the make-believe games that they always played.

He grinned back at her. Perhaps letting Hermione be Queen this _one time_ wouldn't be so terrible.

* * *

Thorfinn stared down at his home with a smile tugging on his lips. Kicking his heels into the flanks of his horse, he moved forward, surprised at how excited he was to get back. It wasn't as if he'd been gone that long, but over the month he was away, he couldn't deny that he had missed his own bed, and if he was honest, the inhabitants as well.

When his father had first tasked him with inspecting the Kingdom's defenses on the Slyth River, he'd jumped at the chance. He'd been slowly been rewarded with more and more responsibility the older he'd gotten, but this was by far the most significant thing he'd been asked to handle. At age sixteen, he was being positioned well to become a thegn by the age of twenty. It was exciting.

Plus, it gave him an excuse to get away from Leoflaed and Hermione, who at age thirteen were constantly underfoot and bothering him. They should know that he was a man grown now, and he did not have time for their childish games anymore. It was humiliating to have them try to put flowers in hair. It was a mockery of their proud Northern culture, and he could only imagine what his father would think if he saw them with them in his hair.

Walking directly to their food storage feeling a rumbling in his stomach, he found Hermione reviewing some counts with her nun. His father had continued to pester the Bishop about her education, until she'd been sent a woman who'd taken holy orders. Hermione and the woman constantly butted heads, seeing as Hermione resolutely refused to acknowledge the Anglo-Saxon god as her own. Honestly, he admired her headstrong streak.

Taking an apple, he bit into it looking at the young woman who'd been taken in by his family. She was no longer a woodland sprite, but it was clear that should never fit the ideal of Anglo-Saxon womanhood. Her hair was always a bit too wild, her face always smudged, and her feisty attitude meant that she was practically incapable of holding her tongue, even if his father was meeting with the other thegns.

Before he could greet her, though, her eyes were widening in surprise at whatever she was holding in her hands. A stricken look came over her face, and then she was rushing out, pushing past the nun and him. The nun rushed after her, calling her name, but she promptly mounted Thorfinn's horse and rode away.

Knowing that he couldn't just let her run away when she was clearly so upset, he rushed to get a second horse ready, before following after her. There was no need to look - he already knew where she was headed.

It had been a long time since he'd been to the clearing in the forest where they'd played as children, but she was waiting there, sitting with her back against a massive oak, knees pulled to her chest. He dismounted and watched as her body shook. He was surprised to see her crying, as he didn't think she'd cried since coming to live with them those six years ago.

Walking towards her, Thorfinn sighed before settling down to sit next to her. "What's happened, Hermione?" he asked, wondering if he should wrap his arm around her shoulders. Knowing her, she would likely wriggle out from under it, complaining that he was too heavy.

She looked up at him, brown eyes shining with tears and nose wet. "The Grangers...my parents. They had twin boys the year after they... _sold_ me to you," she said with a gasp, as if her heart was being torn out. "And a daughter three years ago. Did you know?"

He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed together. He supposed that he wasn't surprised. Eni would have needed help around the farmstead, but he could understand how it seemed to Hermione. "I didn't. I haven't been back there since that day," he answered truthfully.

"Your father has been keeping it from me," she said, sounding miserable. "That my parents just _didn't_ want me. Carelessly gave me away," she wiped at her cheeks, and Thorfinn knew it must pain her to show this level of vulnerability to him. "I've been holding onto them for _years_ , and they didn't even wait a year to replace me."

Thorfinn had no idea what to say to this. He couldn't imagine being put in her situation. It _was_ true that her parents had sold her to his family, that could not be denied. Guilt pitted in his stomach when he remembered how bitterly he'd complained about her weregild not being worth a tenth the food rent. How little he'd thought of her then.

"I bet they think about you all the time, too," he offered, wondering if that was true. His fingers caught her sleeve, pushing it up slowly past her elbow to reveal the blue ink that was still under her pale skin. It had faded, no longer the brilliant blue it had once been, but it was still there. "You are still apart of them," he said, letting his fingers trail against her skin. Her skin turned to goose flesh under his gentle touch.

She looked down at it, before her face went cloudy. "No Anglo-Saxon women are tattooed," she argued darkly.

Thorfinn was surprised by the sudden self-consciousness that she felt about the tattoo. He gave her a small chuckle. "Well, you are no ordinary Anglo-Saxon woman," he said with a grin. "You are a Brigante, a proud descendant of Cartimandua herself."

"Thorfinn, please don't tease," she scolded, though there was hope shining in her eyes.

"I'm not teasing, it's true," he said. "Just like I am no ordinary Saxon man, either. Half-viking and proud descendant of Ragnar and Wodin himself." _That_ got a real laugh out of her, and he felt surprisingly warm at the sound. "Come, let's get back. Mother said that she would have a feast fit for a King waiting for me."

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lifted her onto his horse, before mounting the other. Looking at her sitting proudly on top of the horse, he hoped that the fierce spirit inside her never left her again.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows. So glad that y'all liked the little insight into their childhood. Hermione definitely had a rough time of it, didn't she? But don't you worry - she's a tough cookie. Added some more to the glossary, so check that out if you are interested. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter three and be on the lookout for chapter four next week!

* * *

Thorfinn walked back from the stream, his long blond hair still damp with water, tunic clinging to the parts of his skin that were still wet from his bath. Breathing in the autumn air deeply, he let himself look around his homestead proudly. Now, as a man _fully_ grown, aged twenty, he knew that it was nearly time to leave his family and create a home for himself. He longed for the day that he would ask the King for an audience and be granted the title of thegn, putting to use all the training and lessons his father had passed on.

He would have asked sooner, but their long ruling King, Salazar, had passed the winter prior, sending the Kingdom into a bit of chaos. It had been several years since a full Witan had been called, but one had been assembled to confirm the succession of power. Thorfinn had attended with his father as an observer. There hadn't been much to say - Salazar's closest adviser Lord Rodolphus had insisted that the King had been grooming his heir, Tom, to be King, and expressed his desire that power should pass to him when Salazar passed.

King Tom Slytherin didn't look like much to Thorfinn - he was tall for a man, but not as tall as Thorfinn or his father or older brother. He had dark hair with thick waves, and he could be frequently found twirling his fingers in it. His eyes were a remarkable shade of blue - deep and mistrustful. He had an easy, charming smile that had most of the courtly ladies twittering to themselves, but it made Thorfinn feel uneasy as he wondered what dark thoughts were hidden behind them.

Looks aside, he seemed as if he would be a good leader. He had strong opinions on many things, and everyone at court listened when he spoke. He seemed strong, as if he would have a plan and not sit back and wait, choosing to be proactive in protecting their Kingdom. The only thing that had Thorfinn and Ivar bristling was his scathing remarks on the Danes and the Britons at the North and West of their lands respectively. However, they were only two in a room of many, and they did not say anything to oppose it.

Thorfinn should have liked to ask King Tom at that moment for the title and lands to become thegn, but his father counseled against it. With the crown in flux, it would take time for the King to settle in and decide who was worthy. Better to continue to show that he was capable, and ask in a years time. Now those months were ticking by rapidly, and Thorfinn felt himself aching for the chance to set out on his own.

Movement over the ridge caught his attention, and Thorfinn grinned to see his father and Hermione riding back towards home. His father had insisted that being female was _not_ a sufficient reason not to be able to defend yourself, and had taken time to instruct both Leoflaed and Hermione, despite his wife's objections. His little sister had grown far too concerned with the prospect of marriage to continue beyond just learning to use a dagger, but Hermione had decided to continue to this day. Though they only used wooden swords, Thorfinn didn't doubt that Hermione would be able to protect herself well enough if she could manage to lift a real sword. Still, he figured she would certainly have the element of surprise.

Hermione had blossomed over the years, and was now uniquely beautiful. Seeing her ride on a horse could always make his heart skip a beat. She truly did look like a British Queen, as fierce and wild as the stories of Boudica. Her hair swirled around her in the wind and in the sunlight she looked like a true spirit of Autumn. The thought of having her under him had his blood running hot.

She made eye contact with him across the yard and gave him a little smile that had him biting the inside of his cheek. Not wanting to be noticed by his father, he retreated to the edge of the barn where he still had a vantage to spy on her.

She gracefully dismounted from the horse and called out to his father. "Ivar, I will take the horses back to their stalls," she said, looking an absolute picture of innocence, one which is father fell for easily.

"You are too good to an old man, Hermione," he said gratefully. Ivar _wasn't_ truly an old man, and he certainly got around easily enough, but it was no secret that he wasn't as able as he'd been when they'd first met. "I've never told...we are happy to have you in the family. You are like another daughter to me," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Thorfinn watched as her cheeks pinked and her face softened into something sweeter. "And I've never told you...I wouldn't be who I am today, if it weren't for you, Ivar," she responded softly. It was true. He doubted that she would have had half of the opportunities that she'd had here if she'd grown up with her parents. Feeling too much like a voyeur watching the tender moment, Thorfinn retreated towards the stables.

He did not have to wait a long time for Hermione to wander in, leading both of the horses into their pens. She was humming softly to herself when he snuck around from his hiding place and pulled her into an embrace.

"Thorfinn," she said, a smile tugging at her lips. "I thought I saw you _skulking_ around," she chiding, before turning in his arms and pressing a kiss against his lips, eager. He pulled her more firmly against his body, not embarrassed by his body's reaction to her.

Hermione was not the only woman he'd been with. He'd lost his virginity several years early to a serving wench at a tavern in the capital city. Afterwards, he spent his time chasing various women of the households of his father's thegns, finding moderate success owing to his stature and handsome looks.

But, Hermione quickly became a favorite of his as she grew older and more beautiful. He'd kissed her for the first time when she'd just turned six and ten, and he'd been chasing her ever since. They'd started things slowly, just catching lingering kisses here and there, but as another birthday came and went, their relationship had only grown more passionate. Though, Thorfinn felt a bit silly calling it a relationship, seeing as it wasn't based on feelings, but proximity instead.

Pulling her towards the fresh hay, Thorfinn let himself fall backwards, dragging her down with him. She landed with a sudden exhale of breath, her hands resting on his broad chest. With her perched above him, he was suddenly struck by just how pretty she was. Her brown eyes were mischievous and free, pupils dilating in lust. Freckles dotted the bridge of her nose, becoming more and more apparent the longer she spent in the sun.

She leaned over him and caught another kiss, eager as ever. He used one hand to tangle in her hair, holding her tightly, keeping her just where he wanted her, while the other caressed the curve of her waist, only to stop at the swell of her breast. He groaned feeling her nipple pebble through the layers of fabric. She gasped suddenly and he took advantage of her surprise, deepening the kiss.

Using his thumb, he rubbed back and forth across her breast, enjoying the gasps and the subtle rocking of her hips against his leg. She kissed him as though she were desperate for him, as if she were a wildfire and he was the air allowing her to burn out of control. Pressing his eyes shut tightly, he let himself imagine what it would be like to have her under him, completely naked. He longed to see her spread out for him to feast on, to pepper the band of blue around her arm with kisses. She would sigh his name as he entered her over and over, desperate fingers holding him to her.

To Thorfinn's dismay, that remained a distant fantasy. Although they had kissed more times than he could count, Hermione was obstinate about not going any farther than a few pets and touches and it drove him made.

He couldn't think of anything he wanted more than to feel her around him.

She was still young, though, and so he didn't push the issue too hard, but that didn't stop him from asking when they were together. Tearing his mouth from her, he pressed his lips to her neck, knowing how much his nips and kisses could make her writhe against him. Greedy fingers went to the broach that held her outer dress together, hoping to get her down to just her shift again. He'd spied her coming back from a bath in just her shift not long ago and the fabric had just _barely_ concealed the body underneath. It had been enough to drive him wild with desire.

Before he could rid her of the clasp, though, Hermione was hauling herself off of him, rolling to lie on her back. Her fingers went to the broach, checking to make sure that it was secure. "You _know_ we cannot do that, Thorfinn," she scolded him, though if he wasn't wrong, he sensed a bit of wistfulness in her voice.

The problem was, Thorfinn _didn't_ really understand why they couldn't.

"Come on, your father said he has an announcement for dinner tonight," Hermione said, standing up. She smoothed out her skirt, but it did little to fix the delightfully rumpled look that she was sporting.

He stood up after her with a sigh, pressing a hand to the front of his pants, hoping to hide the evidence of their activities. Smirking at her, he watched as her was temporary distracted by the motion, her fingers still in her hair. Looking at the crown of her head, Thorfinn pulled out a few pieces of rogue straw that had weaved into her curly hair, before pressing a kiss to her forehead that had her blushing.

They walked silently back into the house together, and Thorfinn had to resist the urge to hold her hand. Though he knew he didn't have any competition for Hermione's affections from his own family, he wasn't blind to how some of the others looked at her. He knew it was odd to feel so possessive over someone who he had no real claim to, but it didn't stop him from wanting to show everyone that she was his.

Apparently, this was not so well hidden from his father, who took one look at Hermione's flushed appearance and their close proximity and gave Thorfinn a disapproving look. With his mouth held in a firm line, he had a feeling that his father would be wanting to talk about it with him sooner rather than later.

"Thorfinn, for Woden's sake, go get dressed," his father groused, looking at his unkempt look, still only in undergarments from his bath.

With a roll of his eyes, Thorfinn stalked off to his clothes, leaving Hermione to find her seat at the table all on her own. She immediately started to have a quiet conversation with Leoflaed. Thorfinn often wondered what the two of them talked about together. They were very close, even as their interests and desires had separated as they got older. His sister was a perfect lady, interested in making herself into as good of a potential wife as possible, whereas Hermione couldn't help but test the limits of their society. She knew that she was an outsider and wouldn't change herself to fit into their way of life.

When he returned to the table, he frowned to notice that the only open seat was down the table from Hermione. He'd hoped to be able to sit closer to her, with the aim of teasing her. Even though she said they couldn't go farther, he knew that she was curious.

Ivar looked serious while they were eating, and waited until the end of the meal to final speak. "I have some important news," he said, looking grim. "It has come time for Leoflaed to leave our homestead, and make her life with a new family. I've accepted terms for her hand in marriage."

Leoflaed looked at their father with starry eyes. "Oh father, who is to be my husband?" she asked eagerly. Over the past year, they had met with several other families, and there was no secret that there were some men she preferred more than others.

"Theo Nott will be your husband," he said with a small smile.

She clapped her hands together excitedly, only to wrapped in a tight hug by Hermione. "Oh congratulations Leoflaed. I just _know_ you will be so happy with him," Hermione said with a broad smile. It was no secret that Theo Nott was the one she'd wanted to marry all along.

Thorfinn groaned aloud. Nott was certainly _not_ the man that he would have selected for his little sister. "Father, Nott can't even pick up a sword," he said, rolling his eyes. "How can you trust him to protect Leoflaed?"

"You will be silent, Thorfinn," Ivar commanded, giving his son a significant look.

Thorfinn scoffed, thinking that his father was always scolding him when he spoke out of turn, but he didn't bat an eyelash if Hermione was being outspoken. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I am just trying to lookout for my sister. Nott hasn't ever seen battle. She should be placed somewhere else where we can be certain she'd be well looked after."

"I will remind you, that you haven't seen _real_ battle either," his father said, sounding positively icy. "If you are so concerned, you can give Nott the sword for our family." As was traditional in Anglo-Saxon weddings, their family was expected to present a sword to Nott, and Thorfinn intended to find the largest, heaviest sword he could, just to embarrass the skinny beanpole his sister was intent on tying herself to. Hopefully, it would reveal him for the fraud that he was, and she'd reconsider.

"Father, I am so pleased," Leoflaed said, tears of happiness in her eyes. No matter what her big brother thought, she was impressed with how gallant and kind Theo Nott had been when she'd met him. He was an excellent dancer as well. Turning to Hermione, she grabbed her friend's hands in her's. "And Hermione, you will be my bridesmaid, won't you? I couldn't think of anyone better suited to ask than my sister."

Hermione seemed surprised by the genuine request, but was quickly nodding. "Of course I will Leoflaed. I would do anything you asked of me," she said, with a pretty smile on her face. "You will make the most beautiful bride." The two girls embraced one another once again, before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

"When is the wedding to be, my love?" Osthryth asked. "Hopefully you've left us enough time to prepare proper clothing."

Ivar smiled at his family. "The wedding will take place in a fortnight at the Nott's estate. A messenger has been dispatched and Eirik will be joining us there," he said smoothly, perhaps not realizing how long it would take the prepare the dresses. "The King and his retinue will be attending the banquet, as well." Osthryth looked annoyed to hear that, and she seemed to be already creating a list of all the things that would need to be prepared in that short time.

Hearing that the King would be attending had Thorfinn's ears perking up, though. Perhaps this would be a good chance to request lands and the title of thegn. Surely, Tom had settled in enough at this point if he was attending something like a wedding. And, he was positive that he'd done enough to be granted his request. There would certainly be a day to make requests and settle matters of law if the King was going to be there.

"I shall like to have an audience with the King," Thorfinn said forcefully. He was the same age that Eirik had been when he'd first received lands. The Rowle family had been more than loyal to King Salazar, and Thorfinn knew it was only right to acknowledge that loyalty. Land and title would be a traditional way to show favor. Thorfinn felt his heart beat a bit faster when he realized that he would finally get what he'd been working his whole life for.

Ivar looked his son over. He knew that his father still thought he had a lot to learn, but he would never get what he wanted if he never asked for it. "Perhaps you should be focusing less on attaining lands, and more on attaining a wife," he said, rolling his eyes. "Or else you will bankrupt your homestead within a year of earning it."

Thorfinn nearly choked on the mead that he was drinking at his father's suggestion. He'd been so focused on getting his lands that he'd never even considered all that would go along with it. A wife seemed like an awful lot of work. And really, why should he tie himself to one nagging woman when he could fuck any tavern wench he wanted to? Though, he supposed it would be nice to have someone to share his home and bed with every night. He thought of the affection that his mother and father shared, despite coming from such different backgrounds. Perhaps he could find similar love if he opened himself up to the idea of a wife.

Down the table, Leoflaed was talking Hermione's ear off about how she wanted her wedding dress to look like, but Hermione didn't appear to be looking. Instead, her cheeks had turned a pretty shade of pink. Perhaps feeling the weight of his stare, she met his gaze across the table. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she gave him a shy smile.

Curious, he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I know you all are super eager to have Tom enter the story - good news, he will be showing up finally in the next chapter! You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions! I'd also like to give a huge thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter for me!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter four and be on the lookout for chapter five next week!

* * *

With the pending marriage creeping closer each and every day, Hermione hadn't had as much time to sneak off with Thorfinn as she usually did, and he found himself missing their rendezvous in the barn more and more. With her stubborn refusal to go further than a few kisses and pets, he found himself with a lot of pent up energy.

There was only one thing that he could do for it - upping his training in the yard. It wouldn't be good to let his skills slip, not like some of these flowery Saxons that masqueraded as lords. He came from a proud line of Northmen and he couldn't stand the idea of disappointing them. After all, his father had gained quite a reputation as a formidable warrior, and he wanted to follow in his father's footsteps.

Thorfinn hadn't been expecting his father to join him in the yard after his second day of intensive training, watching him from the sides. Noticing the serious look on his face, Thorfinn had to suppress a groan when he realized that the man must want to discuss something with him. Sheathing his sword and wiping the sweat from his brow, he walked towards his father.

"How long has it been going on?" Ivar asked, staring at his son with a furrowed brow.

"How long has what been going?" Thorfinn countered, though he already knew where this conversation was headed. He hadn't been blind to the surprised and slightly concerned look his father had given him the other night when he and Hermione had walked in for dinner nearly hand in hand, Hermione looking deliciously rumpled.

Ivar did not seem pleased with his response. He crossed his arms over his chest. That would have intimidated him many years ago, but as he'd gotten older, he'd grown to be of a size with his previously larger than life father. "You know what I am talking about. Hermione. She's just a girl, and I won't have you taking advantage of her."

Thorfinn snorted. "Don't worry...there is no taking advantage, I can promise you that," he countered, still feeling a bit salty about being rejected so frequently.

"I know your reputation, Thorfinn," Ivar said with a frown. "I am a bit disappointed with how casually you act with women, especially those from the households of loyal thegns, but I've looked past it until now."

Hearing his father's disappointment loud and clear, Thorfinn could feel his cheeks going a bit red at the tone of voice. How was it possible that his father could reduce him to this when he was a man grown? "I'm not being casual with Hermione," he said sternly, though deep in his heart he knew just how much he wished the opposite was true. If she even gave him a hint that he could go further with her, he wouldn't give it a second thought. "And there is nothing wrong with acting casual with women...it's not as if I have a wife."

"This is exactly why you need a wife, before you make a mistake that you cannot take back, Thorfinn," his father scolded. "You don't think far enough into the future and it makes you careless. You need a woman to ground you."

It was odd, Thorfinn thought, thinking of how sudden all of this had come up. He supposed that it was more important to have Leoflaed settled and happily married than his second son, but Thorfinn's parents had never spoken to him seriously about marriage. "If you say so," he said with a shrug, though he still knew he wouldn't focus on it until he'd been granted his lands.

"And, don't dishonor Hermione," Ivar said with a frown, obviously still worried about his young ward.

"Don't worry - she won't let me," Thorfinn answered with a sneer. He wondered why his father was so concerned with Hermione's virtue when it wasn't as if there were any arrangements being made for her to marry. Yes, his family did treat her as one of their own, but it was no secret that there were differences between her and Leoflaed's futures.

Thinking of Leoflaed leaving made him wonder if it was Hermione's intention to join the Nott household as well. After all, Hermione had been purchased as a companion to his sister, and they had grown to be fast friends over the years. Would Hermione stay with Leoflaed once the wedding banquet was over, or would she continue to assist his parents in their running of the farm?

He resolved to find out.

* * *

Ever since Leoflaed's betrothal to Theo Nott had been announced, Hermione had been incredibly busy. There was so much to prepare for, including creating a beautiful dress for her sister in all but blood, including intricate embroidery and beading, and a similar, but less extravagant dress for herself. Hermione's strong suit was certainly not clothing making, but the short duration of time that the Rowles had to prepare meant that it was all hands on deck, and even Hermione's passable embroidery would have to do.

Being a bridesmaid meant that she would dress the same as Leoflaed to help ward off evil spirits and confuse jealous suitors, but Hermione knew that there was no way anyone would confuse her and the lovely Leoflaed.

She was so very excited for her friend to finally be taking this step, knowing that it was something she'd dreamed of ever since she was a girl. If Hermione was honest with herself, she'd often dreamed of finding love and a family of her own as well. She and Leoflaed could spend hours talking about what their husbands would be like - gallant, strong and handsome - when they were little. As they grew older, and their chores grew to be different, Hermione was quick to recognize that marriage was something that could remain nothing more than a dream to her. She would never be taken aside by Osthryth to learn ways to support a household, as a Lady. Instead, she was relegated to storerooms, counting goods and keeping records. She figured that Ivar was likely to send her to take Holy Orders once their children were grown. She was not really a part of the family, but rather a little Celtic interloper who could never fully integrate herself into their society, no matter how hard she tried.

Love just wasn't in the cards for her.

But then, things with Thorfinn had shifted. She still remembered the first time he'd kissed her and how her heart had nearly threatened to beat out of her chest. He'd grown exceedingly handsome over the years, and his childish entitlement had morphed into manly confidence that was so attractive to her. He knew what he wanted and he wasn't afraid to go after it. She just never would have expected him to want her.

Meeting him in the barn or at the stream or in the forest always felt dangerous and forbidden, but his kisses felt so wonderful that she kept coming back to him like a bee to a flower. She never let things progress further than allowing him to touch her breasts, or to press their bodies tightly together with layers of thick wool between them, even though she knew that he wanted to take it further. Woden, she could feel how much she wanted more, but she always held back, knowing that their relationship was fated to remain clandestine.

That was until Ivar had told Thorfinn that he should find himself a wife. Suddenly, she was full of hope once again that Ivar might possibly see her fulfilling that role. After all, he said he needed someone who could help run a homestead from a ruling point of view, and hadn't that been what Ivar was teaching her all these years? She often took care of the rents if Ivar was away on tour, and he frequently thanked her for her help, saying he couldn't count on anyone else to do it. Not to mention, he told her that he thought of her as a second daughter. Maybe he wanted to make it true?

So that was why, even with her fingers aching and bruised from holding a needle all night, Hermione was sneaking out of the house to meet Thorfinn in the barn, why she would allow herself to tumble about in the hay that was meant for horses. She could barely contain her excitement, remembering the secret smile she and Thorfinn had shared at the dinner table just a few days before.

The barn was dark when she entered it, but a hand quickly darted out of the stall at the end, pulling her against tall frame and muscular body. She grinned, knowing that it could be no one else but Thorfinn. Spinning in his embrace, she lifted her hands to cup his face, feeling the scratch of his short beard. He wore his beard as more scruff than his father's neatly trimmed beard, halfway between Saxon and Dane, but it suited his lackadaisical attitude just the same.

He had to bend his neck to kiss her, just as she had to crane her's, but kissing him felt easy and she was quickly swept up by the raw feeling of it. He placed a hand at her lower back, just barely above the swell of her arse, and gently guided her to rest on the pile of straw. It certainly wasn't glamorous, but she was so smitten with the blond man that she was willing to put up with it.

Wrapping her arms around him tightly, she could have spent the whole night kissing him under the stars, even if it meant that she would be falling asleep in the goat pen the next day. Feeling a bit bold she let her hands wander across his shoulders and down his arms. He always looked so strong holding his sword, and now she knew it was true.

Her fingers trailed over roughspun wool and down his stomach to a part of him that she was intensely curious about. Sucking in a breath when he caught her lower lip between his teeth in a playful nip, Hermione nearly stopped her exploration at the top of his pants. But, she wanted to know more, to really feel him. Taking a fortifying breath, she let her hand trail lower and lower until it finally made contact with the hard rod between his legs.

Thorfinn's hand darted out of nowhere, grabbing her by the wrist in an ironhold and pulling her away from him. "Don't make moves you don't intend to follow through with," he scolded her, only to let her free.

She knew that it was probably mean to tease him so, but she wanted to know more about him. Still, she could agree that it was wise to cease her explorations when she wasn't willing to go further with him at this time. She slanted her mouth over his, pulling him into a deeper kiss, content with kisses for now.

Sighing when he broke the kiss, Hermione pressed her forehead into his chest. "Oh, I've missed this all the same," she whispered. "I am happy for your sister, but I will be glad when the wedding is over, so that I've got more time back. And perhaps then we won't have to sneak around so much," she broached hopefully.

"It will be strange not to have her around anymore," Thorfinn said quietly, letting his fingers tangle in her hair as he becoming uncharacteristically reticent. His heart beat a steady rhythm against her cheek, and Hermione felt completely comfortable in that moment. "Are you considering staying with Leoflaed and her new family?"

Hermione was quiet for a moment, wondering over the meaning of his words. Was he trying to suss out if she wanted to stay with him? After all, she thought she'd made herself pretty clear what her feelings for him. "Woden no," Hermione said after a moment. "I am sure that Leoflaed won't need me any more. After all, she'll be a great Lady, and have all sorts of duties. Besides, I don't think that Nott particularly cares for me."

That was no secret - Hermione and Nott had had a rather heated exchange about what to do with the Celts that lived on the borders of the Kingdoms. Nott was of the opinion that the Celts were little more than savages, and Hermione was offended that he hadn't even bothered trying to learn anything about the varied cultures of the Britons. After all, a Pict was nothing like a Brigante. He'd scoffed at her enthusiasm for the topic.

She felt Thorfinn's fingers trail up her back and sighed into him once again, feeling content. "Perhaps you'd like to come to my new lands and work with me?" he broached cautiously.

There it was, Hermione thought to herself, her heart beating so hard that it was threatening to burst right from her chest. A tentative proposal of marriage. Of course, she and Thorfinn had never discussed feelings in all of their clandestine meetings together, but she knew that he wouldn't enjoy being rejected should she not return his feelings. She held her breath waiting for him to continue.

"After all, father is right," Thorfinn tentatively admitted. "I've been focused on making a life for myself for so long, becoming a thegn...but, I've never thought about all the work that goes into it once I've actually achieved my aims."

Hermione smiled, looking up at him cautiously. "You really would bankrupt yourself. But, I'd give you more than a month," she teased, remembering Ivar's words from the other day.

"Exactly," Thorfinn agreed, grabbing her hand to intertwine their fingers together. Hermione was amazed by how much larger his hand was than hers, and she couldn't stop from staring at the sight. He made her feel protected and safe. "I never believed your father when he said you were good at sums, but you've proved me wrong time and time again. I think it would be quite the coup to snatch you away from my father's household."

That was odd, Hermione thought to herself. "But, you wouldn't really have to snatch me away, would you?" she questioned. "Surely your father would be happy to know that you were well cared for. He'd approve."

Thorfinn winced, but she wasn't sure if it was from the question, or for some other reason. "I would hope that he'd approve that I'd picked an advisor who could help me run my lands efficiently," he said casually. Meanwhile, Hermione's stomach was sinking, thinking that advisor didn't have the same romantic ring to it that wife did. "After all, my wife certainly wouldn't be able to help too much, if she is educated the Saxon way. My father had to fight tooth and nail with the bishop to have you educated at all."

"Your...your wife?" Hermione stammered, completely blindsided by this line of thinking. She'd been under the impression that Ivar, and Thorfinn for that matter, was suggesting her when discussing the needs for a wife. How could he possibly think that she'd want to come with him when he was married to another.

"Well, of course, I think that's something that I can't avoid," Thorfinn said softly, running his thumb over the palm of her hand. "But that doesn't mean that our relationship couldn't continue the same as it has. It isn't as if I will love her."

Buzzing erupted in Hermione's ears when she heard what she was suggesting and she felt physically ill at the idea of being Thorfinn's mistress. She took a few deeps breaths, trying to get a handle on her emotions, before disentangling herself from his grasp. Peering down at him through the darkness, she scowled at him. "Don't you care for me at all?" she asked, accusatory.

"Of course I do," Thorfinn responded, sensing the change in her mood.

"Then how could you ask me something like that?" she asked, blinking back tears furiously. She wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of crying in front of him when it was clear that he didn't care for her. Sure, she was positive that he cared very much for the things she could do for him, but obviously very little for her feelings.

"What did you expect Hermione? You heard my father," Thorfinn asked incredulously. When her silence answered him, he started chuckling lowly in his throat. "Woden, Hermione, you didn't think that I would marry you, did you?"

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders that Hermione quickly ducked out of. It felt terrible to have all of her hopes and dreams dashed with the unintentional callousness that Thorfinn had. She swallowed thickly, before standing up from the pile of straw, smoothing her skirts. "On second thought, I can see why your father wouldn't approve," she said with a sneer.

"You did," Thorfinn said, sounding miserable. "You know that I could never marry you, Hermione. You...you aren't meant for someone like me."

He didn't say what he really meant, but it didn't matter as Hermione heard it loud and clear. She couldn't marry him because she was a Briton and despite all of his posturing to the contrary, he was nothing more than a Saxon. She didn't fit into his world, and she would never be accepted by the other thegns and earls. Love just wasn't in the cards for her.

Still, that didn't mean that she had to lower herself to lie with a man while he had a wife, Hermione thought, anger bubbling up inside her. She wasn't going to be little more than a convenience for the brawny man. Over the last year, she'd thought that Thorfinn had changed from the selfish teenager she'd known her whole life, but she realized now that she'd just been blinded by her silly crush.

Leaving Thorfinn lounging in the barn, Hermione crept back towards the house, wiping furiously at the tears on her cheeks.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I know you all are pretty sad for Hermione right now, but things will be looking up, I promise. I am still working on answering reviews from last chapter, but I promise I will get to them today! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions! Huge thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter five and be on the lookout for chapter six soon!

* * *

The ride to the Nott's lands usually would have been a hard day's ride, but with all of the family in tow, it was going to take five days to make it there. Thorfinn was feeling restless the whole ride, wanting nothing more than to take off at a hard gallop. Instead he was forced to wait for his mother and sister. The slow pace was only made worse by Hermione's outright refusal to talk to him even a little bit.

On the day that they'd set out, he'd made his way over to where she was waiting next to her horse. Wrapping his hands around her slim waist, he made to lift her up onto her horse, only to have her shove his hands off of her immediately. She'd spun around and given him a look that could kill, before mouthing off to him. "I _don't_ need help getting onto my horse, Thorfinn," she'd practically snarled, before vaulting herself onto horseback.

He was sad to admit it, but he almost treasured that moment, just because it was the last time she'd spoken to him at all.

If anyone noticed the frosty attitude that Hermione was giving him, no one said anything about it. He still didn't entirely understand how he fucked everything up so terribly, but he wasn't blind to the fact that he obviously offended the woman. He didn't think that she was particularly justified in her anger - after all, it was _she_ who had misread the situation, grown too hopeful. When he realized that she thought they would be married, everything clicked into place, including her desire to hold off on sex.

Even though she was being rather childish right now - and he knew it would take a while for her hurt to dissipate - he was positive that Hermione would come around eventually. After all, she was a bright girl, and she had to realize that she was asking for too much. Then, he was sure that they could resume their flirtatious relationship and part when he married, if that was what she still wanted.

Seeing Leoflaed get married was sure to make Hermione come to the realization that that was not something she could ever attain, and though she would be hurt for a while, it was important for her not to fill her pretty head with dreams that would never come true.

Looking ahead, he saw Hermione riding by herself, her head staring resolutely foward. She did look magnificent riding a horse, with her long brown hair trailing behind her as she kept the beast on a steady cantor. She really could be a Celtic Queen, if she'd only lived several centuries past. She was vengeful enough that he could see her leading armies into lost cause battles. It was a shame she wasn't, because then they might actually have a chance.

Pulling his horse up to ride next to her, he couldn't stand her ignoring him any longer. "You are going to have to speak to me sooner or later, Hermione," he said, trying not to let her know how much her silent treatment was affecting him.

Hermione jutted her chin out - a telltale sign that she was going to be stubborn - keeping her eyes on the trail ahead of her. "I don't see why I'll ever need to speak to you again," she said with an even tone. "After all, the King will grant you lands, and I will return to your father's homestead and we will never _ever_ need to see one another again."

"Don't you think you are overreacting a little bit?" he questioned, not letting her get away from him, despite her increase of pace on the horse. "I didn't _mean_ to hurt you."

She snapped her head around to stare at him. "No, you just didn't care about how _I_ might feel, Thorfinn," she responded, thinly veiled disappointment evident in her voice. "You were always so selfish as a child, and I see that you haven't grown out of that vice."

"Now who is trying to hurt who?" he countered, feeling uncomfortable with her accusations. She didn't respond to his question, instead forcing herself to look down at the mane of her horse. "Come on, Hermione. It will reflect poorly on my father if it seems that his household is fighting."

Hermione caught her lower lip inbetween her teeth, perhaps trying to hold herself back from saying something more damaging. "Who will even notice me at the wedding, hm?" she finally said, after a few beats of silence. "I am nothing more than a lowly little celtic _hostage_ , Thorfinn. I'm not worthy of a place in your family, as you so brilliantly reminded me of. So forgive me if I don't want to play along for your sake."

Before he could argue with her anymore, she dug her heels into her horse's flank, speeding away up to the front of their procession, where his father was riding. That certainly left him no opportunity to continue their conversation. His father had warned him not to dishonor Hermione, and if he knew what had transpired between the two of them, he was certain that his father would have nothing kind to say to him.

He didn't understand why Hermione was being so damned stubborn about the situation. Why couldn't they just move past it, already? If she wasn't going to be nice and speak to him, then he wasn't going to go out of his way to try and smooth things over with her any longer. It only served to upset him further, anger bubbling up in his chest when he thought of it.

Well, two could play at that game. If she was so unbothered by not having him around, then he would do everything in his power to ignore her just the same. In a few months, he would be married and moved far away from Hermione Granger. It wouldn't take him long to just forget her.

He hoped.

* * *

Upon their arrival to the Nott's lands, Hermione had been kept busy with preparing Leoflaed for her wedding. The Notts kept the Christian god, and there were all sorts of new, strange traditions that would have to be observed. Hermione found all of it to be quite suspect, but for once in her life, she tried to keep her thoughts to herself so as not to offend her friend's new family.

The two girls were not ignorant to the fact that this might be the last time that the pair of them got to spend time together. While their interests had separated the older they got, their friendship remained solid. Leoflaed, once a very silly girl who enjoyed playing the fair maiden had grown into a serious and determined young woman. She'd devoted herself to learning to become the best wife she could possibly be. While they still giggled over Leoflaed's numerous suitors, the slightly older girl was no longer obsessed with fairytales.

Knowing that they didn't have much time together, Hermione didn't complain for a minute about all of the things she was being asked to do in preparation. She helped Leoflaed in a ritual bathing, and spent each night brushing her long brown hair, still slightly envious of it's stick straight appearance. She arranged flowers and leaves until her fingertips had actually bled, all without saying a word. Instead, she happily collapsed into her bed at the end of the day and immediately fell asleep, glad that she wouldn't have time to think about Thorfinn.

Thoughts of the tall blond man had her heart aching. A part of her knew that he was right, that she wanted too much, but she was still hurt that he was content to use her for her body alone, without so much as a thought as to how she felt. And although she might not be able to marry him, that did not mean that she couldn't find some ceorl to marry. Or perhaps a thegn without much land. She was still the daughter of a thegn, even if she was a hostage.

It hurt so much to think of Thorfinn mostly because she knew she still felt very strongly for him. During the time that they'd had together, her crush had run rampant, and she knew that what she felt for him had grown deeply in her heart. Even though she refused to kiss him again, that didn't mean that any of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place had changed. He was still brash, funny, and unexpectedly sweet. He obviously cared a lot about his family. She hadn't been able to stop from laughing when he handed over the newly created sword to Theo's waiting hands. He made the sword look lighter than a feather, but Theo had struggled with the weight.

She hadn't been able to shake off the feeling of his gaze during the ceremonies, his light blue eyes full of heat and lust. Hermione knew that he was annoyed with her, but she wasn't going to let herself go back on her determination. Anything shared with Thorfinn could only ever be temporary, and the longer that she kept lying to herself, the more it would hurt.

Once the wedding ceremonies were completed, Hermione had let herself slip away into the periphery of the banquet. The hall was filled to bursting with families from all over, and the King's retinue as well, though she hadn't quite figured out which one was the King yet. As expected, despite their similar dresses, no one was confusing her with the more beautiful Leoflaed. She'd never been so painfully reminded of her station in this society than that night, where she was overlooked and forgotten by Nott's people.

Glad to be out of the spotlight for the first time that night, Hermione happily grabbed a horn of meade, and contented herself to some people watching. Smiling softly to herself, she watched as Ivar led Osthryth in a rowdy dance all over the hall. The pair just looked like they belonged together. Though Osthryth was scolding her husband, it was no secret that they were thoroughly enjoying one another.

"Earl Ivar is quite light on his feet for one so large, is he not?" a voice came from next to her.

Startled, Hermione turned her head, only to be met with dark blue eyes and a mischievous smile. Returning his smile, Hermione nodded. "Yes, he is a much better dancer than I would expect for a warrior of his caliber," she responded, wondering just who this handsome stranger was. "Forgive me, my Lord, but I don't believe I know your name."

"It's Tom, my Lady," he responded with a little bow. "But you must be the enchanting Lady Hermione who lives at the homestead of Earl Ivar."

She blushed, unused to such flattery. He was nearly as pale as she was, but he had dark hair that was nearly black in the low light of the hall. While he did not have long hair, he didn't wear it cropped short as so many of the Saxons did in the Kingdom of Slytherin. "Oh, I am no Lady," Hermione said sadly, before looking away and focusing on the horn in her hand. "Earl Ivar was good enough to take me from my family's farm when I was a small child."

"That must have been difficult for you," Tom said, sounding very sympathetic. "To have been taken from your family."

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful," Hermione quickly corrected him. "The Rowles have given me many opportunities that I never would have had with my parents. Earl Ivar has even arranged for me to be educated, as I'm quite gifted with sums and writing. They've fed me, clothed me, and accepted me into their home."

She could hear Tom smile next to her, before taking a drink of his own ale. "I am sensing that there is a 'but' hanging in that statement."

Hermione, unsure of why she felt that she could be so open with him, gave a tiny nod. "I don't think any girl could not miss her family. I still think of my parents often," she admitted, something that she never talked to the Rowles about, especially since she learned that they had children after her. She didn't want to seem pathetic for pining after something when her parents had clearly moved on.

When she turned to look at Tom again, he was staring at her very intensely, as though he were trying to puzzle her out. She flushed under the look, worrying that she'd said far too much. "My Lord, you certainly do not want to spend your evening speaking with me. Surely there are other Ladies far more worthy of your time than a celtic farm girl."

He smiled at her once more, before turning to look at all the revelers. "I think that we have more in common than you might think, my Lady," he said, his good mood quickly evaporating. "I myself was taken as a hostage from a neighboring Kingdom when I was less than ten. My mother was an Icini princess and my father a Saxon Lord. Unfortunately, he denounced her once I was born and sent me back to my grandfather to work on a farm."

Hermione was very interested to hear his story, having thought she was more or less alone in her circumstances. It must have been very hard for Tom to have been denounced by a Lordly father. "How did you come to be in the Kingdom of Slytherin?" she asked, eager to hear more of his story.

"Well, the Kingdom of my lordly father tried to start an annexation of the Kingdom of Slytherin many years ago," he explained softly. "And King Salazar quickly dealt with my father's Kingdom. They demanded a hostage to ensure that they wouldn't try anything like that again. My father was only _too happy_ to pass me off to them."

"But, if your father doesn't care for you, how was it any guarantee that they wouldn't attack Slytherin again?" she questioned, incredibly fascinated by his tale. Of course, it wasn't exactly the same as what had happened to her, but still, she was beginning to think that she'd found a kindred spirit in Tom. She wondered who he belonged to. The wedding was quite large, so he could really be in the household of any number of powerful people.

"Oh, I suppose it was his plan to lie low for a few years, put Salazar into a false sense of security," Tom answered with a shrug. "But, then my father died nearly a decade ago, so I am sure any talk of a rebellion died with him. I doubt that the King worries about them at all."

Hermione nodded, thinking that it was likely true. They had been in a period of such prosperity and peace, she was sure that the King's largest worries were the Danish raiders who would try to pick off weak homesteads and steal food and silver. "He certainly is mysterious, this King," Hermione commented with a nod, looking around the room for the man who was likely to be the King. "I've been so busy preparing Leoflaed that I haven't been introduced to him or the retinue."

Tom smirked at her statement. "Enough talk of the King," he said with a grin. "I would rather enjoy taking you for a turn about the Hall, Lady Hermione."

She bit her lower lip, thinking over his words. Just because Thorfinn thought that she was too beneath him to marry did not mean that she couldn't find love with someone like this man. He shared a similar background as she did, and was likely to have a similar station as she did in a larger household. He was still referring to her as a Lady, even though he did not have to. Plus, he was rather handsome. "I would like that as well," she agreed, before taking his outstretched hand.

Tom walked her to the empty end of the hall where dancers were congregating, before wrapping her in his arms. She pressed her face to his richly decorated tunic, and inhaled the pine and seawater scent that clung to him. It felt wonderful to be twirled around the room in his arms, making her feel lighter than air. Sure, he wasn't Thorfinn, but it was good to be reminded that her blond friend wasn't the only man in the world.

Tom chuckled under his breath, catching her attention. "It seems as if food and shelter wasn't the only thing that the Rowles gave you," Tom whispered in her ear, directing her attention towards Thorfinn standing at the edge of the room. His blue eyes were boring into her back and he looked as if he was positively fuming. "You seem to have a protector as well. Is young Thorfinn...interested in you, perhaps?"

Hermione pulled her eyes from Thorfinn's, shaking her head. Thorfinn had made it abundantly clear what he thought of her. "Oh, no," Hermione responded, hoping that she sounded more resolute than she felt. "I think Thorfinn has always been rather irritated with me. I am sure he will be happy to never have to think of me again once the King grants him his lands."

"Do you think that the King will grant him his petition?" Tom asked, sounding interested.

"Oh, well, I shouldn't presume to imagine what the King would or wouldn't do," she said with a blush. "But, I think he will. Despite being a bit brash and immature, Thorfinn _is_ a gifted leader, strong and eager to prove himself. I think he would do well, even if he will have to make a few mistakes first."

Tom laughed at her response. "Well, I suppose learning from your mistakes is a good way to get the message to sink in," he agreed. "But, let's not talk about lands and politics, Lady Hermione. I'd rather enjoy the night dancing with you."

Hermione couldn't remember the last time that she felt so special or so desired. She never wanted the night to end.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Seriously, you guys are so awesome! I am thrilled that so many of you were glad to meet this suave and charming Tom. He is still Tom, though! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Huge thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter six and be on the lookout for chapter seven later this week.

* * *

Hermione woke with a yawn, pulling her blankets up to her chin to stave off the wintry air that was creeping in since the fire in the hearth had died over night. This far North, meant that frost was already creeping in and winter would be on them sooner rather than later. Ivar's land was much further south, and she was certain they still had a few more weeks of autumn before having to worry about snow.

She couldn't remember what time it was when she finally fell into her soft bed, the Notts sparing no expense on accommodating Leoflaed's family. She _felt_ as if she'd danced the night away in the arms of that handsome stranger, Tom, but in reality, she knew that it had only been a few dances before Eirik had come and extracted her, insisting that he dance with his other sister. Tom had reluctantly let her go, leaving her with just a kiss on the cheek, leaving her head spinning as if she'd drank too much mead.

After she'd spent a reasonable amount of time with Eirik, chatting away with his two small children, Tom was nowhere to be found in the Hall. Hermione had been disappointed to realize that she hadn't even figured out which household he belonged to, so that she might send a messenger to him in thanks for dancing with her. Now, she was completely reliant on his seeking her out, which may never happen, seeing as some households had already left in the very early hours of the morning.

Sighing, she knew that she could not spend all day abed, she quickly rose and dressed, wearing a green dress as one last celebration of summer. She made her way to the smaller hall where the Notts ate breakfast together. Seeing as it was only Theo and his father, Hermione knew that Leoflaed's family would have been the only guests invited to join the new couple at breakfast.

"Good morrow," Hermione greeted, getting a shy grin in return from Leoflaed, who was sitting as close to Theo as possible. Osthryth was there as well, but Ivar and Thorfinn were notably absent. "Where are the others?" she asked quietly, hoping not to seem too obvious.

"Thorfinn has gone to petition the King for his lands, and Ivar is hoping to speak on his behalf," Osthryth said with a grin. "That boy, sometimes I think that his ambitions are too great for him, but he is determined to prove me wrong."

Hermione couldn't hide a smile from Osthryth to show that she agreed. Even though she was still very upset with Thorfinn, that didn't mean that she wouldn't still laugh at him. "Yes, I worry that he won't realize what he's really asked for until he's gotten it," she responded with a grin.

"I wish I could chat longer with you three," Osthryth said, standing from the table, "but I have to see about the packing. We will be leaving later today, Hermione."

Leoflaed looked slightly stricken with the realization that all of her family would be leaving her behind in less than a day, and Hermione felt sad for the girl. With Osthryth out of the room, Hermione tried to give her a comforting smile. "You will have such a wonderful time here getting to know Theo's people, won't you?" she asked. "The lands are beautiful."

Theo seemed pleasantly surprised to hear Hermione praise his family home, and gave her a nod in thanks, before wrapping his arm around Leoflaed. Though they never really got along, both being too smart for their own good, Theo and Hermione did share Leoflaed and her happiness in common, though Theo more so now. "Yes, I am sure that things will be very busy here now that the wedding has passed," he agreed.

"Things will be so different without you, Hermione," Leoflaed said sounding very sullen. "But I won't try and convince you to stay, when I know that Thorfinn needs someone to look after him."

For a moment, Hermione wondered if Leoflaed was aware of the budding relationship she'd shared with Thorfinn, but one look at her expressive face told Hermione that she was innocent in that regard. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, Hermione looked at the food in front of her. "Oh, your brother will be making his own way in the world s0on enough. I'm sure the King is granting him lands as we speak," she said, hoping that the sadness she felt wasn't creeping into her voice. "But I promise to look after your father and mother for you."

Nearly imperceptibly, Leoflaed relaxed at Hermione's oath.

Before they could speak further, one of Theo's men walked into the room, handing the new groom a piece of parchment. He quickly unfurled it, reading over the words, confusion growing on his face. "Hermione, the King requests your presence at his audience. He is hearing petitions right now in the hall."

"The King?" Leoflaed asked, sounding utterly perplexed. "What could he possibly need with our Hermione?"

Hermione felt as if she'd voiced her feelings into life perfectly. She had no idea what it was that the King could possibly need to speak with her about, but she found herself a nervous wreck. Standing suddenly from the bench, she smoothed out her hastily selected dress. Was it nice enough for an audience with the King? "Do I look okay?" she asked, hearing the tremor in her voice that betrayed her nervousness.

Leoflaed was already nodding, though she also stood to help Hermione adjust her dress, making sure that everything was perfect. "Yes, you look wonderful. I understand that the King is stern, but fair. Whatever he might need you for, I am sure that if you are honest and truthful with him, everything will go wonderfully."

Wondering if she looked as pale as she felt, Hermione followed Theo towards the Hall, her stomach roiling with nerves.

* * *

Thorfinn had already decided that the day after the wedding would be when he formally requested his lands from the King, hoping that the revelry and merriment would loosen the man up. After all, many great relationships were formed over ale, and it tended to relax the drinker. He knew that he ran the risk of meeting King Tom hungover and irritable, but from everything that he knew about the young man, he was unlikely to drink to excess.

In the end, it was Thorfinn who came to the audience irritable.

The night before, Hermione had spent the night dancing in King Tom's arms, looking far too lovely, laughing at his quips and japes. Her cheeks had been flushed from the heat of the room, her eyes dancing merrily in the dim light of the room. Obviously, she'd enjoyed herself immensely with the King, while he'd been left standing on the periphery of the room, feeling terribly jealous. If Hermione was going to dance with anyone, it should have been him, _surely_.

What was worse was that the King seemed to have enjoyed himself as well. Normally restrained and serious, Tom had seemed comfortable with Hermione on his arm, a relaxed smile on his face the entire time that he'd spent speaking with her. Thorfinn certainly wasn't the only who'd noticed either. Ever since his coronation the year prior, the King's advisers had been insistent that he marry and produce an heir sooner rather than later. Now that he'd danced with one woman and one woman alone, it seemed as if he was considering it.

Of course, this had brought furious whispers about how unsuitable Hermione was, and how they were perplexed that he should have anything to talk to with a heathen Briton. Rodolphus Lestrange and his wife Bellatrix had looked particularly furious. Perhaps Thorfinn could hope that they would convince the King to look elsewhere. The Greengrasses had two daughters of marriageable age, and surely they would be better suited to him.

Shoving that horrible idea out of his mind, Thorfinn entered the great hall where the King was seated in a straight-backed chair, his back rigid. A thick silver circlet was worn on his head, one that had not been worn the night before, in an effort to broadcast his power. Settling in amongst the other petitioners, next to his father, Thorfinn waited to be called.

After he'd been standing for a nearly insultingly long time, Tom finally motioned for Rodolphus to come towards him and whispered something into his ear. The two men discussed for a moment, before the King finally acknowledged him. "Thorfinn, son of Ivar," he said with a barely hidden smirk on his face. "I understand that you have something that you would like to ask of me."

Tamping down the annoyance he felt with the other man, Thorfinn stepped forward. "Yes, my King," Thorfinn responded, though the words felt like ash in his mouth. "I've come to request that I be granted lands. I've been assisting my father in the management of his considerable domain all my life, and I would now like to set out on my own."

"Ah, yes, Earl Ivar," Tom called, instructing his father to join Thorfinn. "Is this true? Has Thorfinn been assisting you?"

"I knew that it was Thorfinn's desire to become a thegn, like his brother Eirik," Ivar started slowly. "So, I've been giving him tasks to assist me in my rule."

"And how vast are his lands, Rodolphus?" King Tom asked offhandedly, as though he didn't already know.

"Earl Ivar owns sixty-five hides, but he overseas over five hundred hides owned by other thegns," Rodolphus explained. "His lands are on the far Western side of the Kingdom, near where the...celts flourish."

A murmur swept through the hall at the word celts, and Thorfinn had no doubt that it was in relation to the radiant smile Hermione had worn when she'd danced in Tom's arms the night before.

"And, Earl Ivar, do you find that your lands are profitable? I'll confess, I know of no issues with your ability to deliver food rent," he said, bringing his hand to his face, his blue eyes intense. It was obvious that the King was very much enjoying this exchange.

"My King, since Salazar helped to beat back the Danes, I've had no issue with producing food rent and food more than suitable for feeding my people. We've had no drought and no blight. Hermione, a young maid in my household, has been keeping records for me for nearly a decade now, and we've seen only tremendous growth during that time," Ivar explained, puffing his chest out a bit in pride at his successes.

"A young maiden?" Tom questioned. "And you've educated her in sums and letters?" he asked, even though Thorfinn was sure that Tom already knew the woman in question was Hermione, the woman he'd danced with. This time the whispering that spread through the hall was even louder than before, as if it were blasphemy to teach a woman.

Ivar smirked, not caring for a moment that he was bucking social tradition. "It took some convincing of the Bishop on my part, but yes, Hermione has been educated. She has the mind for it."

"And you have been rewarded for it Earl Ivar," Tom complimented with a tip of his head. "Certainly, this must be a matter of cultural difference."

"Yes, Northmen see little difference in what women and men should be taught," Ivar responded. "And Hermione has shown her usefulness time and again."

Tom smiled at the comment, and Thorfinn wondered if he actually agreed with the idea of Hermione being educated or if he just saw it as an amusement or an oddity. "Well, young Thorfinn," Tom addressed him, raising his voice so that all in the hall could hear. Thorfinn had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from speaking out at the King's choice of words. He wasn't _much_ younger than the King in question. "I shall grant you your lands. However, if this is to come to pass, I will need an exchange from you as well."

Feeling slightly confused, Thorfinn questioned the King. "What sort of exchange, my King?"

"My advisers are constantly reminding me of my need to produce an heir," Tom said with a laugh. "That means that I am in need of a wife. I spent last evening dancing with a very beautiful maid and found myself quite enchanted. But now, to hear that she is also an educated woman, with a mind for sums, I find myself even more intrigued by the prospect of marrying. Certainly, a woman as brilliant as she would give me suitable heirs."

The whispers of the others in attendance had reached a constant buzz, and Thorfinn had no illusions that they were happy words about Hermione. The more that the King extolled the reasons why he should be joined with her, the more the anger began to build inside of him. How dare the King ask him for this!

"So, the time has come for Hermione to prove her usefulness to your household once again," Tom said with a small smile, as though he knew the knife he was turning in Thorfinn's heart. "I will grant you lands, should your family grant me Hermione's hand in marriage."

Hearing the words out loud somehow made the feeling even worse. Thorfinn could feel the blood rushing in his ears, drowning out the sound of anyone else, while he stared at the King in disbelief. It was impossible that Tom should want Hermione for his own. But, further, Thorfinn knew that he could not give Hermione up. The feeling, the jealousy, that Hermione might find happiness and love with someone who was not him nearly bowled him over with it's intensity.

"So, what say you Thorfinn?" Tom questioned, obviously growing impatient with the lingering silence that grew between them.

"Absolutely not. I do not agree to that exchange!" Thorfinn shouted, making some of the ladies in the room jump in surprise.

"Ivar, reason with your son," King Tom commanded, looking down at the Northman imperiously. "Tell him that he is a fool for rejecting an offer such as this, one that does no harm to him." Tom looked thoroughly annoyed at the harsh rebuff.

His father cleared his throat, before shaking his head as well. "No, my King. In this case, I agree with my son," Ivar said, his voice steady and sure. "If he would have agreed to it, I would have overruled him. Hermione is a member of _my_ household, and I won't go exchanging her happiness for lands. She can marry someone of her choosing, when she is ready."

"A noble future for a _hostage_ ," Tom spat out, rubbing in the Rowles' faces the way that Hermione had come to live with them. Then he turned to face Thorfinn once more. "Well then, young Thorfinn. Your request for lands has been denied," he said with a devious smirk on his face. "I suggest asking again in another year. Perhaps I won't have need for a bride then."

Thorfinn allowed himself to relax for the barest of moments, knowing that Hermione was safe and not about to leave him, before he allowed his rage to filter back in. Known for his outbursts, he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing the King for his fickleness. However, before he could comment on it, Hermione entered the room, followed by his new brother.

She looked at the man in the center of the room with a look of total shock as recognition must have slipped in. Had she not known she had been dancing with the King the night prior? "Tom?" she questioned, sounding perplexed, before she realized her gaff. Her cheeks turned bright red, and she quickly took a knee as a sign of respect. "Er, um, I mean - my King. You've requested my presence?" she asked, looking to him curiously.

Tom gave her a sad smile that screamed false to Thorfinn. "I am afraid your presence is no longer needed Lady Hermione," he said with a sigh. "There was a matter with you that needed resolving, however, young Thorfinn and Earl Ivar have settled it for you in the time that it took you to get here."

Thorfinn could see the look of confusion on her face, and obviously not knowing what it was that the King had truly wanted with her was eating away inside of her. "How can a matter involving me be resolved without my input?" she asked, hesitantly.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but as you are Earl Ivar's hostage, it is within his rights to answer for you," Tom explained. "Perhaps we will meet again sometime in the near future," he offered.

Hermione gave the King a tentative, sweet smile. "I should like that very much, my King," she responded, sounding wistful. Obviously, her fairy tale night had ended, and it was time to go back to the real world.

Before there could be any more discussion, Thorfinn and Ivar walked towards Hermione, helping her stand from her kneeling position. The look that she gave both him and his father was hurt and upset, but they couldn't discuss it here, where Hermione might give his father an indication that she would choose to marry the King if asked. What young woman wouldn't? "Come on, Hermione. You must gather your things so that we can go?" Thorfinn ordered, while pulling her out of the hall.

Once they were free of prying eyes, Hermione wrenched her arm free of his grasp. "You _don't_ need to manhandle me, Thorfinn. I am perfectly capable of following orders on my own," she sneered at him.

"Look, I know that you are upset, but-"

She swirled around, cutting off his placating words before he could even speak them. "I'm not _upset_ Thorfinn, I'm _furious_ ," she said, though she sounded more heartbroken than anything else.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I know you guys are all really Team Tom right now, but I hope that you haven't completely given up on dear Thorfinn. He is trying after all, but you can't expect him to just change overnight! Still, we've got a lot of story left to get you on team Thorfinn again! Did I mention that this will likely be 23 chapters? You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions! HUGE thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter seven and be on the lookout for chapter eight next week!

* * *

Hermione had been overcome with nervousness trying to conjure up reasons why the King would want to speak to her. She hoped that she hadn't done anything wrong, something to offend the unknown and mysterious man. She knew that he had very strong feelings about the Danes, so she wondered if perhaps he also had negative feelings about the Britons, and wanted to make an example of her. Perhaps he wanted to banish her back to the place where her father had come from.

Theo hadn't been able to calm her shaking nerves, and in truth, he seemed completely unable to imagine his new wife's fierce friend looking so shaken up. Once they reached the hall, though, Hermione had taken a calming breath to collect herself before walking inside.

She certainly never expected that the King was the man she'd danced with the night before. Her heart stuttered when she remembered how open she'd been with her words when she thought he was little more than a member of some anonymous thegn's household. She flushed, thinking about what she'd told him about Ivar's family, and hoped that she didn't seem ungrateful.

His name had bubbled from her lips unbidden before she realized her mistake and quickly dropped to her knees to address him properly. He looked completely at home in the center of the room, seated in a rather uncomfortable looking chair, with his heavy crown resting elegantly on his head. He looked even more handsome today than he had the night before in the haze of mead, his deep blue eyes raking over her kneeling form more than once.

To her utter dismay, whatever it was that the King had wished to speak with her about had been settled when she was fiddling with her dress. Tom had seemed almost apologetic when he told her that the matter had been decided by Ivar, as was his right as her Earl. She was struck by the uncharacteristic kindness of that act, seeing as she knew the other Ealdormen in the room saw little use for a woman's opinion, let alone a woman like her. She knew then that his childhood, growing up in another Kingdom, had affected him same as hers had. He too knew what it was like to always feel on the outside looking in with these Saxons.

She sucked in an eager breath when he indicated his wish to see her again sometime in the future, and she hoped that he meant it true. Then she realized how ridiculous that sounded - if she could not marry Thorfinn, there was no way that she might marry a King. However, perhaps he would invite her to Hogschester, the great city in which he resided, which was said to have an amazing library. She could continue her studies there, and perhaps resign herself to friendship with the handsome King.

Whatever it was that he'd asked for had Thorfinn positively fuming, judging by the fierce look in his light blue eyes. She didn't care for the way that he manhandled her out of the hall, and it only stoked the fury she was feeling at having decisions made for her without her input. Knowing that she needed to put some distance between herself and Thorfinn before she said something that would further drive the wedge between them, she stalked off to her bedroom to pack her things.

This two-week long daydream of what life could be like for her was ending, and it was time to get back to reality.

Once their carts were packed and their horses saddled, it was finally time to say goodbye to Leoflaed. While the dear girl was obviously excited to start a new life with her husband, it would be impossible to suggest that the young woman wasn't affected by the distance between herself and her family. She sobbed into Ivar's tunic and promised Osthryth that she would write. She encouraged Thorfinn to continue his training and to remember that lands weren't everything.

However, it was Hermione that she wrapped into the tightest and longest embrace. "You are my sister," Leoflaed said to the shorter girl, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Hermione's ear. "And I will miss you with all of my heart. I can scarcely remember a time when you weren't with me."

There were tears in Hermione's big brown eyes at the sudden realization that she might never meet Leoflaed again, and she hoped desperately that that wasn't to come true. "I can't imagine not having someone to hide from Eadburg with, to laugh and plan our futures together," she said wistfully. "Now you have your own future to make," Hermione said giving the other woman's hand a squeeze.

"Never fear, Hermione daughter of Eni," Leoflaed said with a grin. "I am certain that you will also have your own future to make, certainly far more adventurous than mine. Perhaps, in not that much time, I will even be traveling to _your_ wedding."

Hermione shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid that won't be in my future, Leoflaed," she said gently, knowing that the other girl hadn't meant any harm. "I'm not a good Saxon woman, and I doubt that anyone would want to marry me to one of their sons."

"No, you aren't a Saxon, but you have much to offer, Hermione. Never sell yourself short," Leoflaed responded, before pulling her in for one last tight hug. Her head dropped to Hermione's shoulder so that she could whisper into Hermione's ear. "And please, look after my brother. I know that he acts tough, but...well, you know that he never stops to think things through."

Hermione agreed, nodding furiously, even though inside she was selfishly wondering who would look after _her_. It didn't seem right that her heart should be damaged so much by someone else's happiness.

Then, they were leaving.

She sat proudly astride her horse, though her face was clearly showing how miserably she felt inside. As they started the long ride back home, she turned to give Leoflaed one last wave, only to notice King Tom staring at their party as they left. Hating the idea that he should see her pouting so much, she gave him a half-hearted smile.

* * *

The journey home was much slower than the journey to the wedding. There was no excitement urging them forward, Leoflaed reminding everyone of just how much would need to be accomplished in the short time. Osthryth was nearly inconsolable with the knowledge that her daughter was now someone's wife, and that the times they would see each other were to be few and far apart. The wagon carrying her moved at a glacial pace, and Ivar couldn't be so heartless as to ask them to pick up the pace, knowing that his wife was hurting.

Hermione was quick to realize that Leoflaed's absence was causing her indirect consequences, namely that it wasn't nearly as easy to ignore Thorfinn this time around. It had taken him exactly one day after they'd left to resume all of his flirty behavior, constantly trying to assist her with things and using any excuse to remove his shirt and show off his muscled form. It made her roll her eyes every time.

It quickly became apparent that she simply wasn't going to be able to ignore him for the remainder of their journey and after a night of tossing and turning, she decided that she would have to talk to him. She couldn't stand for him to act as though nothing had happened, but she knew that they needed to put certain feelings to rest if she was ever going to move on from loving the big blond brute. Steeling herself, Hermione prepared herself to set him straight when he rode his horse next to her the following day.

"You know you can't keep ignoring me forever, Hermione," he said, softly, so as not to alert his father to the nature of their discussion. "It hurts me that we've gone from being so close to you being so cold to me."

"I know," Hermione said, staring at the road in front of her, before turning to look at the man who'd been her friend first practically as long as she could remember. "You've hurt me, too, Thorfinn. But I don't want it to continue like this between us."

Thorfinn rewarded her with a sweet smile, as though he were genuinely surprised that she even acknowledged his presence. "I've missed you," he revealed. "I've missed the weight of you on my chest and the scent of your hair in my nose. The sounds you make when you let me touch you haunt my dreams. But, I've missed your kisses most of all," he told her seriously, bringing his horse to walk as close to hers as he dared, their legs barely grazing each other.

As cloying as she found his words, the memory of him assuring her that their physical relationship could continue if he had a wife quickly ruined the effect. Looking away from him sadly, Hermione knew that she had to be firm to get through to him. "You can't keep saying those things, Thorfinn," she scolded.

"Why not? They are true," he insisted fiercely.

Hermione shut her eyes to ward off any tears that would threaten to fall. "They might be true, but it hurts me too much to hear them," she answered. "You...you are going to have to marry someone. Someone who isn't me."

Thorfinn didn't say anything to counter her statement, though his blue eyes were looking at her with an aching sort of longing. Perhaps he wanted to say that he didn't understand why he needed a wife at all, but Hermione could at least appreciate that he wasn't trying to tell her pretty lies. He wasn't going to promise her something that he could never deliver. It would only hurt more the longer the illusion went on.

"I can't have a relationship with you, if you are going to marry someone else, Thorfinn," she continued, knowing that he was at least listening. "It isn't fair to me, to ask me to give you my heart when I know that you cannot return it."

"It isn't fair to me, for them to make me marry some worthless Saxon woman that I don't even know," Thorfinn groused, looking over his shoulder to where his mother was riding in her wagon.

Hermione let her gaze follow his, only to see that Ivar was riding alongside his wife, talking to her in hushed tones. Osthryth gave him a sappy smile, obviously still so in love after so many years together. It was heartwarming to see, and it gave Hermione hope.

"You could have what they have, you know?" Hermione asked, even though it hurt her to do so. "If you open your heart to your wife, whoever she is to be, you could have the same kind of love your parents do."

"And what about you?" Thorfinn asked, looking at her balefully.

Hermione caught herself from snapping at him, wondering out loud if he meant to imply that she'd never be able to love anyone but him. "And I might find the same, with a man of my stature. Maybe a farmer or a thegn with just a few hides of land. Perhaps I will return to the land of my father and he can find me a good Briton for me to marry," she said casually, wondering if Ivar would ever give her leave to return home.

Thorfinn gave her a dark look. "It tortures me to think of you with anyone other than me," he confessed, completely unabashed.

"I know," Hermione said, remembering the look he'd given her when she'd been dancing in the King's arms. "But that is how it will have to be." She hoped that she didn't sound as helpless as she felt, wondering if that really was how it needed to be with Thorfinn.

Silence stretched between the two of them for what seemed like an endless period. Hermione hoped that Thorfinn would finally understand why his relentless flirting couldn't continue and that she'd be able to heal her broken heart as time went on. Then things could go back to normal between them, to before stolen kisses and romps in the barn.

"We should start over," Hermione said cautiously. "Just be friends again, and forget that we've ever been lovers."

Thorfinn groaned next to her. "We've never been lovers, Hermione. Trust me, _that_ is a memory that you could never hope to get me to part with should it be true," he said, sounding resigned. "Alright, we can try to start over. As friends. Though, have we ever been friends either? I seem to remember you being a thorn in my side, trying to braid flowers into my hair with Leoflaed."

Hermione laughed at his teasing, ignoring the flip flop in her belly from his admission about them being lovers. " _Thor-_ finn," she drew out his name to show her displeasure. "You just agreed that we were friends," she admonished. "Don't annoy me so quickly into our clean slate."

The pair of them laughed together for a few moments, gaining the attention of even Ivar, who was surprised to see the two of them actually enjoying one another's company for the first time in what seemed like weeks. Biting her lip, Hermione knew that she needed to broach a topic that had been on her mind since they left, mostly because she knew that it had something to do with her.

"So, your friend would like to know how your audience with the King went," Hermione questioned, wincing at how blunt the question sounded. "Do you have your lands?" She wondered if their tentative friendship would be for naught if he was just going to be leaving the Rowle lands so soon after they'd made up.

Thorfinn snorted. "No, the _King_ told me to ask him again in another year," he growled, looking at her face for any reaction. "I don't know why, though, when he knows that I am ready now."

A sinking feeling formed in Hermione's stomach when she remembered how honest she'd been with the King about Thorfinn's traits when they'd danced together. That was before she'd known he was the King, of course, and she'd been much freer with her words than she normally would have been. She didn't think she'd said anything damning about Thorfinn, but a part of her worried if she was the reason that Thorfinn had had his hopes dashed. Would he be able to forgive her if she was responsible?

"Well, he _must_ have given you some kind of reason?" Hermione probed, only to be met with surly silence. She remembered how she'd been requested personally and wondered if the King's refusal had something to do with her. It seemed only logical that it did, but combined with Thorfinn's refusal to meet her eyes, she knew that it must. "Does it have something to do with what the King asked of me? What you and your father refused on my behalf?"

"Don't worry about _that_ ," Thorfinn snapped back at her, only piquing her interest further. She was endlessly curious, especially since it resulted in Thorfinn not receiving his lands. What could possibly be worth that?

"What did the King want with me, Thorfinn?" she practically begged, knowing that she would only grow resentful the longer that he kept the secret from her. "Please, just tell me."

He frowned. "What do you think that he wanted with you?" he countered, turning to look at her fully, to read her face. "You were cozied up to him enough at the wedding," he accused, not disguising the jealousy thick in his voice.

Hermione scoffed to see just how possessive he was still being of her. "I _didn't_ know he was the King when I danced with him," she insisted, wondering if he'd believe her at all. "And I don't think you have any right to be jealous of that, Thorfinn. It's not as if I can't dance with whomever I please." This would certainly put a strain on their newly repaired friendship.

"Still, you danced with him the whole night," Thorfinn said, not removing his gaze from the blush that still lingered on her cheeks. "Are you sure he didn't spend the evening whispering all his _little_ plans into your ears?"

"Plans? It sounds as if you are suggesting something nefarious," she said, pausing for a moment. She couldn't believe the vitriol that he had for the King, fueled by his jealousy. "If you _must_ know, I wondered if he'd requested that I come study at Hogschester. It's no secret that I'm quite adept at learning, and I thought that the King might appreciate my strengths, in spite of my sex."

Thorfinn looked at her owlishly. "You want to study at Hogschester?" he asked, obviously thinking that it sounded preposterous.

That hurt Hermione, to know that he still didn't think much of her abilities. "Yes, I want to study there," Hermione insisted. "They have all sorts of books there, histories and more," she said excitedly. "And, I thought it would make things easier for me, if you had to move away and marry someone else," she revealed, in her anger. She hadn't planned on telling him just how much the thought of him marrying someone else bothered her, _too_.

He grinned at her, though, suddenly bolstered by her admission. "I _knew_ that you'd miss my kisses, as well, Hermione," he said with a longing laugh.

Hermione let out a noise of frustration, irritated that he was so quickly returning to his flirtatious ways once again. Perhaps he wasn't interested in trying to start over. "You are completely infuriating. Perhaps we need to take our new friendship slowly, Thorfinn," she said, turning her horse back to where Ivar was riding. "I wouldn't want you to destroy it all in one day."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Honestly, I am so blown away every time. This chapter will give a little more background on Tom and his people. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. HUGE thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter eight and be on the lookout for chapter nine early next week!

* * *

Tom stared into the slowly winding fire in front of him, roasting rabbits turning slowly on a spit. He was tired of spending his nights camping among the elements, having spent time visiting various Ealdormen, capping it off with the wedding. Of course, meeting with his people was a necessary chore - especially so quickly after assuming power - he couldn't wait to return to his bed in Hogschester.

While he normally found weddings and joyful occasions of that nature to be quite tedious, he could admit that this one had left him thoroughly irritated. Of course, he'd heard tales of Hermione before, but he found her to be a delight to speak with. She was certainly as smart as they claimed, and while she wasn't the most beautiful woman in the land, the way her eyes sparkled in the dying firelight had been enough to produce a bit of longing in him. Hermione hadn't known who he was at first, and had been open and honest with him, leading him to believe that her interest in him was completely genuine.

Enough longing that he'd finally acquiesced to his advisers suggestions and requested her hand in marriage. Rodolphus had been very irritated that Tom hadn't cleared it with him first, but Tom had only done as he'd asked. He needed to find a suitable woman to produce an heir. Hermione was suitable in his eyes.

That hadn't mattered, though, when the Rowles had refused his request to marry the woman. If there was one thing that Tom didn't like, it was being told no. He was the King, after all, and he should be allowed to have whatever he wanted.

The strained situation was only made worse by Rodolphus's wife constantly bringing it up on their ride back to Hogschester. "My Lord, you must be positively thrilled that you don't have to marry that little savage," she said sweetly. "I know you _must_ have meant it in jest, offering to marry a Briton. They are known to kill their husbands, you know?"

If there was one thing that Tom hated _more_ than being told no, it was being reminded of his failure. "Bellatrix, you will cease your talking, or you will find yourself banished from our Kingdom," he said tersely, making the woman recoil with worry.

The man sitting on his left chuckled quietly, before tearing into the rabbit he was offered, not caring a bit about the fine bones he was biting into. Tom turned to look at the man with thinly veiled disgust. "Something to say, Fenrir?" he asked sharply.

Fenrir Greyback was a Dane who had joined forces with Tom shortly before Salazar's death. He was a vile creature, who loved killing more than anyone Tom knew, but he had his uses. The rest of his court turned their noses up at him, but if Tom was going to drive the rest of the Danes out of Slytherin, he needed to know how they thought, and Fenrir was a wealth of knowledge.

Fenrir shrugged his shoulder, oblivious to how annoyed Tom was feeling. "You like this girl?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the other man. Fenrir had not been welcomed at the wedding and instead had spent the feasting days at some tavern, probably fucking every woman he could get his hands on.

"Obviously," Tom snarled back at the man, wishing that none of them had seen his embarrassment at being denied. "Otherwise I wouldn't have asked for her."

"Well, then, why don't you have her?" Fenrir questioned, straightening his back to look Tom directly in the eye. Because he didn't _truly_ recognize Tom as his King, Fenrir was often disrespectful.

"Because the Lord she serves said no, he wouldn't give her to me," Tom explained, feeling annoyed that he was having to go over this another time. His fury from being denied was still simmering under the surface.

"You are the fucking King, aren't you?" Fenrir questioned sharply, looking at Tom with equal annoyance. "If you want her, you take her. The Lord that she serves, he serves you as well. So he will do as you command."

Tom paused, thinking over Fenrir's words. It was true that Ivar and his entitled son served only at his pleasure. They should be willing to give him anything that he wanted, but they wouldn't even hand over a single hostage. He wondered what it was that was so special about her.

Perhaps Ivar intended Hermione to marry his son, Thorfinn. Woden knew that it would do the man some needed good if he was ever to hold lands, as Thorfinn was known to act first and think second. But then he remembered Hermione insistence that Thorfinn held no special regard for her at all.

Unless...she didn't realize that he did? Even Tom had been able to see the disproportionate way that Thorfinn had reacted when he'd laid out his terms for land ownership. He acted like a jealous and spiteful lover, that was for sure. Could Hermione really be so naive to not see the feelings Ivar's youngest son so obviously held for her? Or had something transpired between the two of them? Was it possibly that the feelings were returned? Hermione certainly hadn't acted as though she would have rather spent the night dancing with Thorfinn.

"Ivar has already refused me once," Tom said, feeling a bit bitter. He didn't know if he could handle being rejected again.

"Are you the King or aren't you?" Fenrir asked snidely, before tearing off another bite of rabbit, showing off his deplorable table manners. "You don't _ask_ for her, just go and take her. Otherwise, maybe you aren't prepared to be King. Someone else should take that crown off your pretty little head."

"And who would do that, Fenrir? You?" Tom asked sharply. Struck by his deadly tone, Fenrir quickly shut his mouth and focused his attention onto his dinner. Suddenly, he was all out of _helpful_ advice for the young King.

Tom fell silent, his mind thinking through Fenrir's suggestion. It didn't take him long to realize that Fenrir was right, and that he'd gone about it all wrong. Tom could marry anyone in his Kingdom, and they would just have to comply. Ivar had no _right_ to tell him that he couldn't have Hermione. He should have outright demanded the woman from the beginning.

Standing up suddenly, Tom knew that he couldn't allow this slight to stand a moment longer. He couldn't let Ivar think that he had any control over what he did. "Fenrir is right. I will go to Ivar now and demand the girl."

Bellatrix made a shocked noise, obviously upset at the turn of events. "But, my King, we've already _decided_ that she isn't right for you," she whined. "We are so close to home. To turn around would be madness."

" _We_ have not decided anything. I have decided that I will have Hermione and that is that," he said with a frown. "If you are so eager for home, perhaps Rodolphus can spare some of the guard to return to Hogschester. The rest of us will leave immediately."

"Tom, perhaps we should take a moment to think about this," Rodolphus said, pressing a hand to the King's chest, in a weak attempt to calm him down. "If we just go storming in and demand the girl from Ivar, it could mean battle."

Tom smirked at Rodolphus, pulling on the pommel of his sword to reveal the cutting edge. "If Ivar wants a battle, then so be it," he said with a smirk. "I am more than happy to give it to him. But I will have the girl."

Turning on his heel, Tom stalked over to where their horses were waiting, mounting his own in a quick move. "Pack up as quickly as you can, and then ride hard to meet me," he commanded the rest of his retinue, before taking off towards the South.

* * *

The conversation with Hermione about their relationship had been incredibly eye opening to Thorfinn. He was ashamed to admit it, but he hadn't once thought it through from her perspective. Of course, she'd want some husband of her own to love and she wouldn't be able to find that if she was his lover.

Part of him even felt bad that he hadn't let her go with the King. He wondered if she would enjoy being married to King Tom, knowing all of the restrictions that went along with it. He couldn't imagine that the Bishop at Hogschester would appreciate having such a learned Lady, who had absolutely no regard for their god, and who wasn't afraid to speak her mind. He was amazed that Hermione hadn't even thought of the possibility that King Tom might have wanted her for marriage. Instead, she'd conjured an adorably naive future where he would have her study in the capital. It soothed some of the jealousy that had been bubbling away inside him.

Still, with Hermione's insistence that they be friends and friends only, he found himself wondering why they couldn't be more. This whole time he'd been convinced that his parents would never see her as an acceptable wife, but if she was good enough for a King, surely his father would give his consent for Thorfinn to marry her? His father had been unusually strong willed when he spoke about Hermione, so perhaps he would be happy to know that she was well cared for.

He remembered his father's warnings not to dishonor Hermione and knew that the man obviously cared for her wellbeing. He wondered if his father would question Thorfinn's motivations for wanting to marry to girl, but he hoped that Ivar would see it as a positive thing. To recognize that he wanted to marry Hermione because he felt _strongly_ for her, and not because he'd compromised her.

There was only one way to find out.

He found a chance to speak to his father when the man went out for a hunt, after seeing a buck in the forest. Riding alongside his father, Thorfinn wasn't really sure about how he wanted to broach the topic. "Are you going to tell Hermione about what the King asked of her?" he questioned, hoping to ease his way into the conversation.

Ivar shrugged. "Don't really see the point in getting the girl's hopes up. I am sure that King Tom won't wait another year and ask for her hand a second time, now that I've refused him."

"I never thought about Hermione getting married to anyone," Thorfinn revealed quietly, still feeling the lingering tendrils of shame. "There is no reason why she shouldn't get married."

Ivar turned to look at his son, suspicion clear on his face. "Is there something here that you aren't telling me?"

"It's just that...well, I need a wife, and I was wondering if..." Thorfinn trailed off, wondering where this sudden bout of nerves came from. The worst that his father could do would be to say no, and perhaps call him stupid. "If Hermione would be an acceptable bride for me?"

Ivar smirked at him. "I knew you'd come to your senses sooner rather than later, boy. You've been chasing after her skirts for over a year now, but you should have known better than to string the girl along without promise of a life together," he said, clapping his son on the arm. "Hermione is a strong woman and she will be more than able to keep you in line."

Thorfinn was a bit stunned, wondering just how long his father had wanted him to marry Hermione. And, if it was his desire, why hadn't he just arranged it already? It didn't matter, now. Thorfinn had permission to marry Hermione and he wanted to ride away immediately and let her know the news. "I'd like to be married as soon as we return," he told his father.

His father chuckled underneath his breath. "Don't go putting your cart before your horse, Thorfinn. I've told you that I would like it if you married her, but I meant what I told the King," Ivar cautioned. "Hermione is truly like a second daughter to me, and I won't force her hand in this decision. She will marry a man of _her_ choosing."

That did give Thorfinn pause. Would Hermione still consent to marry him now that the only thing keeping them apart was no more? Or had he burned that bridge already? She'd only just begun speaking to him again, and he wasn't sure if he should push his luck. "Then I will just have to convince her that I am the right man for her," he said, though his face betrayed his worries.

Ivar smiled at his son. "Perhaps you don't like your chances?" he asked hesitantly. He hadn't been blind to the frosty way that Hermione had been treating Thorfinn and knew that he must have done something to upset her. "I am not blind, Thorfinn, though you obviously think I am. You two went from sneaking off to the barn every night, to not even speaking to one another."

Thorfinn felt his cheeks color, still a little bit embarrassed at the way he'd handled himself. "It might take some...time for me to woo her," he admitted, sullenly. "But, I am sure in the end, I will be able to prove myself to her."

"At least you already know her," Ivar included. "I never even saw your mother before the day I married her, and I got her to fall in love me."

That did make him feel a little bit better, he supposed. Deciding that it was a good idea to give Hermione some time and space before he broached the subject with her, not wanting to push his good fortune, Thorfinn left his father to the hunt, hoping to come up with ways to get Hermione to agree to be with him.

* * *

Hermione lay on her back, trying to get comfortable so that she could finally fall asleep, but the rocky ground offered her no reprieve. All around her, the other members of her traveling party were happily snoring away, but she found herself awake and staring at the starry sky.

Her thoughts were a mess, which didn't help. Since Hermione and Thorfinn had decided to give each other a clean slate, she'd noticed a change in the burly blond. He'd certainly curbed his flirtatious behavior, which was appreciated. But, she'd also noticed him going out of his way to do extra little things for her. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the new way that he was treating her, just that it was a bit out of character.

She hated to admit it, but it was making her more than a little bit suspicious. Was he just trying to wait her out, expecting her to inevitably fall back into his arms and his bed? Or was this a new iteration of Thorfinn, one that was nicer and more thoughtful? All of these thoughts and worries were keeping her up and driving her mad.

Turning onto her side, Hermione clenched her eyes shut, hoping that her mind could be coaxed into sleeping before the dawn light broke over the hill, something that would happen far too soon anyway.

With her ear pressed to the ground, she could hear her heartbeat galloping wildly. Only...she quickly realized that it was not _her_ heartbeat that she was hearing at all. "Hoofbeats?" she whispered quietly, before sitting up feeling confused.

Straining her ears, she could hear them now, growing louder with every passing second. There was no doubt in her mind that their camp was about to be visited by several riders, but she couldn't for the life of her determine who it might be. Sudden fear struck in her heart when she came to the conclusion that it might be Danes.

Jumping up from her bedroll, she knew that she needed to warn Ivar of the impending raid, not wanting to end up killed. She always kept a dagger on her calf if needed, so she knew that she wouldn't go down without a fight, but there would be others who would not be prepared to fight for their lives. She cursed the man who was meant to be keeping watch when she found him asleep next to the fire.

"Ivar!" she whisper shouted once she got to the man's side, shaking him awake. The man sat up and grabbed her by her shoulders, obviously slightly confused about why he was being roused from his slumber. "Riders are approaching. I think it might be Danes," she whispered, not wanting to alert their attackers.

He listened intently for a moment, only to nod with her in agreement. "Whoever it is, I doubt they are our friends. Go and wake Thorfinn, quietly," he urged, before pulling on what armor he could find in the dark.

She didn't have to be told twice. Hermione easily found Thorfinn among the party and crouched down next to him. Pressing a hand over his mouth to prevent him from screaming, Hermione woke Thorfinn as well. He grabbed her wrist in surprise, but calmed once she shushed him. "Riders are approaching," she explained.

By now, the thundering hoofbeats were getting louder, making their campsite rattle from the vibration. Thorfinn was quick on his feet, grabbing his sword first and foremost. He seemed utterly relaxed, but Hermione wondered if he was feeling as terrified inside as she felt.

Hermione felt out of place, not knowing what to do with herself when the raiders finally appeared. Should she run, she wondered? Before she could determine the best course of action, a black horse was leaping into their clearing, narrowly missing a sleeping man's skull on the landing. The rider pulled the horse to a stop, making the beast rear its front legs, temporarily concealing their identity.

But when the horse righted itself, Hermione could not stop the gasp from leaving her mouth. "The King?" she questioned out loud, wondering just what business the man could have with Ivar that would have him blazing into their camp in the middle of the night.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so pleased that you are still enjoying this story. I know that the last chapter left on a bit of a cliffhanger, and I have been dying to post this chapter basically from the beginning. I am really curious as to what you will think! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions! HUGE thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter nine and be on the lookout for chapter ten later this week!

* * *

King or not, Ivar looked positively furious at having his rest interrupted by the King's riding party, especially in such a hostile way. He wasn't under any illusions that this was meant to be a friendly visit. Keeping his hand on his sword, Ivar took a firm stance, projecting that he was not about to be pushed around.

"My King, I must confess that I was not expecting to be _graced_ with your presence in the hour of the wolf," he said, letting his voice boom through the clearing. Men were still scrambling to wake up and gather their weapons. "We thought that it might be a pack of Danes descending on us in a raid."

"Then I _pity_ how inept your men seem to be at protecting you from raiding attacks," Tom spat back, contemptuous. "Hopefully you protect your lands better than your own family."

"Enough pleasantries, my King," Ivar offered, trying to hold back some of his frustration with the situation. "There must be a reason that you have ridden so far and so hard, other than to question the fitness of my men."

"Indeed," the King said, only to dismount from his horse. His eyes looked around the camp, only to lock with Hermione, who was standing at the edge of the clearing. "I've come for Lady Hermione."

Hermione stood frozen, her heart still beating wildly in her chest. She'd been ready to run to safety if they'd been raiders, but now she wondered if the King wasn't a more dangerous prospect. She still couldn't entirely figure out what he'd want with her that he'd travel all this way just to retrieve her. He didn't look as handsome now as he had at the wedding. His mischievous eyes now glinted with something more sinister.

"Out of the question," Ivar said firmly. "My decision has not changed since we left the wedding, my King. I won't take things out of Hermione's hands."

"I am your King and I am not asking for your _permission_. I will take Lady Hermione, and I will hear no dissent from you," Tom snarled. "You should know that you are utterly _replaceable_ Earl Ivar."

One of Tom's men made a move towards her, as though he was going to grab her and take her away. Thorfinn lunged into his path, pulling his sword. After the hostile action, the rest of the King's men pulled their swords as well. Sensing how dangerous the situation was getting, Hermione cautiously stepped forward, pressing her hand to Thorfinn's shoulders.

"Maybe we could speak about this calmly," Hermione said softly, not wanting to startle anyone into action. "My King, what need do you have of me? Perhaps there is another way that we can sort this mess out if Earl Ivar will not permit me to assist you."

Tom gave her a pleased little smile, before smirking at Ivar. "You didn't even tell her of the opportunity I gave her?" he laughed, realizing that he held all the cards in this equation. "Do you want to know, Hermione?"

Biting her lower lip, Hermione thought over the question. "My King, of course I am _curious_ ," she responded cautiously. "But, there must be a reason that Earl Ivar would choose not to tell me what it was."

"I offered young Thorfinn his lands, in exchange for your hand in marriage, my Lady," he told her, seeming to enjoy the way that his pronouncement made the Rowles uncomfortable. "They refused, but I've since reminded myself that I am King. I will have you and that is my final word and decree."

Hermione was utterly shocked at his words. Reeling, she tried to get a hold of her emotions. Yes, she had enjoyed dancing with the King, but she barely knew him. And now, he was demanding her hand in marriage? He barely knew anything about her either. "My King, I don't know what to say," she offered weakly, trying to think over the merits of his demand. Would he heed her wishes if she told him she wished to remain with the Rowles instead?

"No!" a voice boomed in the clearing. It was Ivar, his sword now drawn in anger. "I told you before, my King, that I will not just _give_ Hermione away to someone whom she doesn't wish to marry. It is Hermione's choice, and _that_ is final. You cannot just show up here and demand her."

She felt her heart thundering against her ribcage. Of course, Earl Ivar had told her that she was like a daughter to him, she never expected that he would stand up for her so, showing steel to the King's own personal guard. She'd grown to see him as a father, the man who raised her, and to know that she truly was so precious to him that he was willing to risk his life for her was truly touching.

"Or you are just saving her for your son," Tom accused with a sneer completely distorting his handsome face. "Are you sure that Hermione would even want to marry the likes of him?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. There was a time when she would have wanted nothing more than to marry Thorfinn. But, his behavior had made her second guess the idea of a future with him, especially after he'd been so horrible to her. That didn't mean that she was ready to marry King Tom after knowing him for only one day. There had to be a mutually agreeable option that would prevent any bloodshed. She just hoped that the King would respect her equally enough to understand her next words. It was not possible to outright refuse him, but she could suggest a period of courtship so that they could get to know one another better. Then, in a years time perhaps, they could revisit the idea of marriage.

Before she could give the King her suggestion, though, Tom was drawing his own sword. "If that's the way you want it to be," he said, sounding exceptionally cavalier about the situation. In the blink of an eye, the clashes of battle erupted.

All around her, the King's men advanced on the household guard that Hermione had grown up with. Men she'd known for a decade or longer were falling all around her, run through by the King's swords, only to drop to the ground, dead and dying. That wasn't to say that they weren't putting up a good fight. Earl Ivar trained his men to be strong, and in the style of his people, which was catching the King's men off guard. But, the King's men were well armed, whereas Ivar's had been sprung upon in the middle of the night, and without the protective clothing they were at a distinct disadvantage.

Fear shot through Hermione as she tried to think of what to do. She knew that she should run away as far as she could before blood lust could descend on these men and she ended up just as dead as the rest of them. She'd heard stories of battle, but standing in the middle of it was enough to keep her frozen, unable to even grab for the dagger on her leg.

Thorfinn, who had been in front of her, was ferocious in battle, so confident in his abilities, despite not having much practical experience. It was clear that his size and strength more than made up for it, as he remained untouched despite taking down several men. As he was drawn into the skirmish, he left her exposed and unattended.

She was looking around for King Tom, wanting to know where he was, but was unable to find him. Just as she was about to turn, an arm grabbed her and pulled her up onto a horse. A scream was ripped out of her throat when she came face to face with her kidnapper. Tom just gave her a pleased little grin.

"Please leave me be, my King," Hermione pleaded with him, not liking this new side of Tom that she was seeing. "Certainly we can work this out without bloodshed."

"There is nothing to work out, Hermione," Tom condescended to her, talking to her as if she was a little child. "I've decided that you are mine, and there is nothing else to discuss."

With his arm holding her securely around her waist, there was little Hermione could do to get free from his grasp. He urged his horse forward, sword drawn, bearing down on Earl Ivar. She tried to scream, do anything to warn her father figure of his impending doom, but he was too invested in holding off three of the King's men to lend his attention. In one horrifying move, King Tom lifted his sword, only to bring it down on Earl Ivar, nearly severing his head from his body.

The proud Northman dropped to the ground in a heap, dead.

All Hermione could hear was screaming, her ears ringing from the sound. Quickly, she realized that the sound was coming from her own throat when the King shoved his hand over her mouth, muting the sound. The King was laughing, a horrible sound, at the destruction he'd caused. Turning his horse around he found Thorfinn in the crowd.

"Well, young Thorfinn, I _grant_ your request. Now you have your precious father's lands and your title. But just remember that you can be replaced just as easily as he was," he said with a maniacal grin. "To ensure that you don't try to do anything stupid, I am going to take a _hostage._ You're used to being a good little hostage, aren't you, Hermione?" he asked rhetorically.

Hermione bit down hard on the fleshy part of his hand, wrenching her mouth free from his grasp. "Thorfinn!" she called out, looking to the man as her absolute lifeline. "Please help!" she called to him, wriggling in the King's grasp trying to get free once more.

To her dismay, the King only continued to laugh, before riding away from the clearing with her in tow. Staring over his shoulder, she saw Thorfinn mount his horse and give chase after her. Woden, she had never wanted anything so bad as to be back in his arms, safe, at that moment. Thorfinn had a furious look on his face while he rode hard, fast. A trickle of hope began to form in her mind when she realized that he was gaining on them, only to have her hopes dashed when one of the King's men knocked Thorfinn off his horse, leaving him sprawled on the ground.

She watched, waiting to see if he would get up, as long as she could. His form got smaller and smaller, only to completely disappear when they crested the hill.

* * *

Thorfinn groaned as the world came back around him. His head was killing him, feeling many times worse than being alesick. Opening his eyes made his splitting headache worse as the sunlight streamed in. The last thing he remembered was that arsehole Rodolphus hitting him with the flat of his blade, knocking him off his horse.

 _Hermione_ , he remembered with a gasp, sitting up far too quickly, leaving his head spinning. All of the night's events came rushing back to him. The King riding in, in the middle of the night, his father refusing to cow to his demands, the fighting. He'd killed more than three of the King's men and maimed at least one other. He remembered the King blindsiding his father, granting his land's to Thorfinn, and taking Hermione as a hostage.

He felt sick. Of course, he'd always longed for lands, but if he'd known that the title was going to come at the expense of having his father murdered before his very eyes he never would have agreed to it. He never would have coveted it for that long. That the King had taken away the woman that Thorfinn had planned to marry only made things worse. He _needed_ to get her back.

But, before he could hope to do that, he needed to get back to their camp. He had no idea how many in their party had been injured, and he was sure that his mother was inconsolable. Looking around, he saw no sign of his horse, so he knew that he would have to make the short walk back, on his own. Each step felt as though he were moving boulders, and he was quickly sweating with the effort of half-dragging himself home.

When he arrived back at their camp, he was met by a scene of complete chaos. As soon as his mother laid eyes on him, she ran to his side. "Oh, thank Woden, Thorfinn," she sobbed into his tunic, wrapping her arms around him. "We've been looking for you for hours, and after your father...I couldn't live without you as well." Her knees gave out beneath her, and Thorfinn had to act quickly to hold her up, guiding her to where she could sit down.

His father's body had been placed on the wagon to transport it back to their lands, and he was struck by the injustice of the situation. He could feel tears of his own forming when he wondered what his family had done to get this kind of treatment. He pressed his hands to his mother's shoulders so that she would look at him once more. "Mother, I promise you that this will not stand. I will get justice for our family."

"The only thing that I can think of now is getting my family home safely," Osthryth pleaded. "Let us return home and give your father a proper burial. Then we can give our grievances to the Bishop. He will be able to give us retribution to the King's actions, if the land you have been granted isn't enough."

Thorfinn felt incensed at her suggestion. "Of course a bit of _land_ isn't retribution enough for killing my father," he growled, remembering the way that the King had laughed so casually, as if killing was as easy as breathing to him. "And, he has Hermione. He cannot just take whatever he wants from us."

"He is the King," Osthryth whined, knowing that it was unjust. "We have sworn our fealty to him, live in his Kingdom, and we must do as he asks. He is...within his rights to take Hermione," she extrapolated.

Looking into his mother's red-rimmed eyes, he was aghast to see that she was being very serious. He quickly decided that she must have been so addled by her grief that she was taking the path of least resistance. Surely, she would see the error of her words soon enough and get on his side as well. Thorfinn frowned. "The King demands too much of us," he bit out, trying to keep a handle on his anger. "I cannot bare thinking of Hermione alone with that monster. We must go get her back."

"Hermione is probably happy to be with the King," Osthryth pleaded weakly. "We all saw her dancing with him at the wedding and she seemed so happy. She will quickly forget about us."

Thorfinn shook his head back and forth. "No, Hermione didn't want to go with him, mother. She called for me as they rode away with her. The King has kidnapped a member of our household, and we cannot allow that to stand," he said, standing up. "Father thought of Hermione as a daughter! He would not want this fate for her either."

His mother stood up as well. "But _I_ never thought of her as a daughter!" she shouted back at him. "Hermione was _never_ one of us, Thorfinn. Now, I have given up Leoflaed and lost my husband in less than a day, and I refuse to lose you too, should you go after the King and that girl. It's over Thorfinn."

He took a deep breath, thinking about her words, only to feel pain. He was hurt to know that his mother had never seen Hermione as one of the family, but he wasn't particularly surprised either. It was no secret that she thought Ivar did too much for her when he encouraged her to be educated. Osthryth treated Hermione well, of course, but never with the same tenderness as her own children. Still, he knew that she'd lost the love of her life today, and she was likely feeling nothing but grief. He wouldn't hold her words against her.

He looked at his father's body, and remembered the conversation they'd had in the forest just the day prior. Ivar had been thrilled at the idea of him marrying Hermione, and Thorfinn wasn't going to give up on that dream just because the King had taken her from him. He couldn't forget the way that she'd called out for him, looking utterly terrified as Tom dragged her away from him. Even though she'd made it clear that she would like to study at Hogschester, he couldn't accept for a second that she would want to marry the man who'd murdered Ivar.

But, he knew that he wouldn't get anywhere if he just stormed into the capital city, all by himself. In any case, he wasn't in any shape to hold a sword at the moment, let alone mount a horse. He would be dead before the evening was there if he went charging off. No, instead he would return to his lands and give his father a proper burial. Once there, he would come up with a plan that would mean getting Hermione back.

Giving his mother a grim look, he nodded to placate her. "Come, let's bring father home. We will write to Leoflaed and Eirik so that they might say their goodbyes to him as well. If we hurry, we can catch Eirik before he gets too far away," he said.

She wrapped her arms around him tightly. "Thank you, Thorfinn. I can't lose you, too. I wouldn't survive it," she cried.

Now over a head taller than his mother, Thorfinn pressed a kiss to the crown of his mother's head. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he did not accept this outcome. With the memory of Hermione's voice screaming his name is desperation, he made a silent promise to the woman he loved that he was going to save her, even if it killed him.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I know that last chapter was pretty intense, so I will just get right into it. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. HUGE thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter ten and be on the lookout for chapter eleven soon!

* * *

After riding the whole night, King Tom and his party showed no signs of stopping. While Hermione had initially tried to be as difficult as possible, the more leagues that Tom put between her and Thorfinn, the more futile it seemed. She didn't even know if Thorfinn was alive or not, and when she'd asked the man who'd hurt him what he'd done to Thorfinn, he'd only laughed at her.

"You know, I am _quite_ capable of riding on my own," Hermione said snidely to Tom, not caring one whit that he was King, and she ought to show him more respect. "I've been riding since I could walk."

Tom laughed at her, before giving her a condescending smirk, as though she were nothing more than a naughty kitten. "I couldn't do that, Hermione," he said smoothly. "You would take off as soon as I let you out of my arms." To illustrate this, he wrapped his arms tighter around her.

Hermione shuddered in his hold. Tom had initially seemed so charming, but he'd quickly shown her his true colors. If things had been different, she was sure her heart could have been aflutter in her chest to be riding with him, but now she just wanted to get free of him, and back to Thorfinn. Their argument seemed so silly to her now. While she had still not forgiven Thorfinn completely, she felt that they were moving in the right direction.

"I wouldn't do that," Hermione responded smartly. "I'm not _stupid_. I wouldn't even make it a furlong before you'd catch me."

"My King, perhaps we should let Hermione try to get free," said a female riding on the horse next to him. Hermione had quickly realized that this woman, Bellatrix, wife to Rodolphus, was not her biggest fan. She'd been complaining about Hermione's presense the whole night, and Hermione could feel Tom becoming more and more irritated with her. "I am sure that Fenrir would _love_ to chase her down," she said, smirking evilly.

"Yes, you know how much I love to play with my food before I eat it," Fenrir said, smiling broadly, showing off his red stained teeth. Fenrir was a true Dane, much larger than Thorfinn or Earl Ivar, with dark hair held out of his face in complicated looking braids. He could tell how frightened of him Hermione was, and had delighted in putting all his efforts into scaring her more. He heavily intimated that he ate people and that it was blood that had permanently stained his teeth.

Tom was not amused by the suggestion. "There will be no chasing Lady Hermione down," he commanded, grabbing a strand of her hair. "She is far too precious to me to do something like that."

"If I am so precious to you, then why did you take me away from my family?" she asked, feeling tears form in her eyes when she remembered the way that he'd killed Earl Ivar.

"I didn't take you away from your family, Hermione," he explained. "I took you away from your captors. You told me that the Rowles had taken you away from your own parents, when you were just a girl. You can try to lie to me, but I heard how much you resented them when we talked at the feast.

Hermione blinked back her tears. "I _didn't_ resent them. Ivar was like a father to me! He raised me since I was just a girl, and has showed me nothing but kindness," she snapped back at him. "It was my own father who _sold_ me to Ivar for food rent. And then, my real parents just moved on and forgot me, had several other children. I know that you think you are helping me, my Lord, but you are mistaken."

"You bonded with your jailers, Hermione. It happens to many hostages," Tom said indulgently, as though he was telling her some great secret. "It nearly happened to me as well. But I know what you are truly feeling, and I will help you get your revenge. You must only have faith in me."

"I was _not_ a hostage with the Rowles," Hermione snarled back at him. She could see that now, more clearly than ever. "If anyone is my captor, it is _you_. Stealing me away in the night like some common thief. I will _never_ have faith in you."

Tom gripped her chin in his hand, forcing her to twist her neck and look at him. She glared at him with all her might, wishing that looks could kill. "Oh Hermione, you are _fierce_ aren't you? It just betrays your true nature," he answered. Hermione could sense that he had not been referring to her celtic heritage in a positive way, though he did seem to enjoy her anger. "I applaud your strength. Not many people would have the guts to speak to me the way that you have today, but I understand that you are under a lot of stress, so I will overlook it for now."

Hermione could take the hint that she had pressed her luck with the King too far this time, and she didn't want to do anything that could lead to her death. She still had hope that she could work her way out of this mess and get back to the Rowles. Her stomach churned when she remembered the sight of Thorfinn on the forest floor, and she prayed to herself that he was okay and hadn't been killed as well. Poor Osthryth. Hermione couldn't even begin to imagine how much she must feel.

"My Lord," Rodolphus - who seemed to be the King's most trusted man - said from his horse. "We should be reaching Hogschester in less than an hour, if we manage to keep this pace."

Hermione's ears perked up at this. She was intrigued to see Hogschester, even if she wished that it was under different circumstances. She wondered if their library was really as large as it was famed to be, and if King Tom would allow her to visit it.

"Malfoy," the King called to another one of his men. "You will ride ahead and ensure that our rooms our prepared. Make certain that they are aware of our new _hostage_ ," he teased. "I am sure that you will find our accommodations to be much better than what Earl Ivar provided."

"You cannot buy me with pretty rooms and dresses," Hermione said, raising to the bait.

"That much is clear," Bellatrix said with a grin. "Your dress wouldn't be fit to clothe a _dog_ in Hogschester," the black-haired woman teased her.

Hermione's cheeks did color at the suggestion, knowing that she had been wearing her best riding dress, because she hadn't wanted to seem out of place with the Notts. However, she had certainly gotten dirty in the scuffle between the King and the Rowles.

"Bellatrix," the King said sharply. "I would like _you_ to help Hermione adjust to her new lifestyle at Hogschester once we arrive. After all, we wouldn't want my future bride to look anything less than the part. Help her find the tailor to create a suitable wardrobe, and find her dresses to borrow from another Lady while she waits for them to be done," he commanded.

"Yes, my King," Bellatrix said, sounding miserable. Hermione would have laughed that her jibe had landed so poorly with a man she desperately wanted to suck up to, if it wasn't for the fact that she felt just as miserable at the prospect of spending any more time than necessary with Bellatrix. The other woman rode to catch up with her husband, leaving Hermione alone with Tom.

"You can dispense with the charade, my King," Hermione said with a frown. "You have me now and Earl Ivar is dead. You don't have to pretend that it is your wish to wed me any longer."

"Oh, that's where you are wrong, Hermione," Tom cooed, leaning into her. "I still want to marry you. All my advisors have been nagging me for months to find a wife and get her with an heir as quickly as possible, so I will do just that. The fact that picking _you_ annoys them is a bonus, no doubt."

"Because I am a Brigante," Hermione said simply, knowing that the Anglo-Saxons certainly looked down on her. "I thought you wanted to rid the Kingdom of the Celts and the Danes."

Tom smirked at her. "A bit of propaganda, I assure you. You can tell these Ealdormen anything they want to hear, so tired of paying the danegeld, that they will do anything I say," he explained. "I have no particular grudge against the Celts - after all, I am one - nor the Danes. I surround myself with people like Fenrir and you because it makes people like Bellatrix so eager to prove how much better they are. They will do _anything_ I say."

Hermione was a bit impressed with how calculated he truly was. "What's to stop me from telling Bellatrix or Rodolphus that you are just using them?" she questioned, realizing that he'd given her a very powerful piece of information.

"Well, they wouldn't believe you for one," Tom said with a laugh. "But, I am the only one keeping you alive in this city, in this Kingdom. You are here at my pleasure, and I can get rid of you just as easily. I hope that you will keep that in mind," he said, before grabbing her chin again to make her look at him. "You know, I really underestimated how passionate you truly are, my Lady. I think I am going to enjoy our time together."

She violently turned her head out of his grasp, not able to bear being under his heavy gaze for a moment longer. She did not think that she was going to enjoy her time with King Tom for one minute. Before she could think on it much longer, Hogschester began peeking over the skyline. Hermione gasped in surprise at the size of the capital city.

"Yes, it is very large isn't it. I had never seen anything so large when Salazar brought me here all those years ago," Tom said, a bit of genuine fondness in his voice. It was such a juxtaposition from his previous delight in telling her his schemes that he almost seemed like the Tom she'd met on that first night again. "I hate that my court must travel with such frequency, but I confess that I do most enjoy my time spent here."

Hogschester was sprawling and tall. There were buildings several stories high, and every chimney had smoke rising from it. Hermione had never seen anything of it's like, and it was certainly impressive to behold. She couldn't believe that if Tom had his way, she would be living _here_. It seemed to be too much.

The people of the capital came out of their homes once news came that the King was returning, all of them eager to get a look at their young ruler. They seemed equally intrigued by the woman who was sharing his horse, and called after her. Even though she was a truly a hostage, Hermione did not want to appear as though she was beaten down. She sat up straight, proud, doing her best to project that she was _meant_ to be there.

Tom chuckled in her ear. "You look like you wish to be Queen, my Lady," he said. The words were seductive, full of promise. No wife of the King had taken the title of Queen in several centuries, Hermione knew. The woman who married Tom would be known as nothing more than Lady of Slytherin, but she wondered if he had plans to turn that on its head as well. She couldn't imagine what Bellatrix would do should she accept the title.

The royal quarters were located in the center of the town, and were easily spotted by their grand facade. Fenrir was waiting there to help her off of the horse, and he laughed at her when she shoved his hands off of her waist as soon as she found herself back on the ground. Another man came and took the King's horse back to the stables.

"My lady, I have to go speak to the Bishop. However, I believe that the Lady Bellatrix is very excited to show you around your new home," he said grinning at her, as though they were sharing in some secret.

Hermione turned to look at the fake smile that Bellatrix had plastered on her face and resisted rolling her eyes. "If you must," she said snidely to the other woman, taking her offered arm, as was expected of her.

"Pay attention," Bellatrix barked at her. "I am only going to show you this once, and you wouldn't want to get lost. You have no idea where Fenrir could be lurking."

She knew that it was likely an empty threat, but Hermione did heed Bellatrix's advice, keeping her eyes open while she tried to make a mental map of the grounds. The quarters seemed to be built around a lovely garden, which Hermione could see herself walking through during the day. On one end of the courtyard, there was a small chapel, which Hermione doubted she would set foot in. She did not follow this new Saxon god, and if Tom expected her to, then he had another thing coming.

On the other end, there was a hall where the Witen met. "Not that you will be invited to speak at the Witenagemot _any_ time soon," Bellatrix said with a sniff. She led her down a winding hallway, trying to purposely confuse Hermione, she was sure. "And here is where you will be staying," she said, revealing a simple, but well appointed room. It was much nicer than anywhere she'd ever stayed.

"Where is the library?" Hermione asked, wondering why Bellatrix had skipped that part on their tour.

" _Library?_ " Bellatrix asked as if she had never heard of that word before.

"You know, a small room where they would keep records and correspondence of the Kingdom," Hermione explained gently, knowing that it was not a common room for many families.

"I _know_ what a library is you little fool," Bellatrix snapped back at her. "What I don't know is why you would think that King Tom or heaven forbid Bishop Severus would _ever_ let you set foot inside of it," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, the King seemed _quite_ impressed with my ability to read and write," Hermione responded, not caring if she sounded haughty. "I would think that is at least part of the reason why he selected me to be his future bride. It only makes sense that I would have access to it."

"I wouldn't try your luck," Bellatrix said with a grin.

"No problem. I will just have to ask Tom next time I see him," Hermione said, holding Tom's interest in her over the woman's head. There was no reason that she couldn't try to manipulate Bellatrix in the same way that the King did once he explained it to her. "Well, if you _refuse_ to show me the library, you could at least show me where you people bathe. I am terribly dirty after all that traveling."

Bellatrix gave her a look of disgust. Hermione nearly cursed herself for forgetting the Saxon's peculiar distaste of bathing. She could admit that it had been a large adjustment when she first came to live with Ivar's family, but now she couldn't imagine not bathing at least once a week. Perhaps she would just have to find a stream a little ways out of the city.

Thinking about the Rowles made a fresh wave of sadness come over her. "Never mind, Bellatrix, I will just have someone take me tomorrow," she said softly, hoping the other woman would take the hint and leave her alone. "I would like some time to myself right now. There are a lot of adjustments to be made."

Bellatrix didn't need to be asked twice to leave her presence. "Fine. The tailor will be by first thing in the morning, and he doesn't like to be kept waiting," she ordered, before turning and leaving Hermione alone in her new room.

Hermione immediately made her way to her bed, laying down in a heap. Thinking of the way that Earl Ivar had died _for_ her, _protecting_ her, filled her heart with an ache she didn't know she could feel. She wished she'd been more honest with him when he'd been alive. And Thorfinn - how she wished she could tell him that she wasn't _that_ mad at him anymore. She couldn't stand it if he'd died thinking she hated him.

In her heart, though, she knew that Thorfinn was alive. She _hoped_ that he was coming to save her, but she would certainly understand if he didn't. After all, his father had been killed because of her. She wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to see her ever again.

Whether Thorfinn came for her or not, Hermione made a promise to herself that King Tom was not going to get away with this. He might have thought she was resentful of Earl Ivar, but nothing could be further from the truth. If King Tom thought that she was just going to go along with his plans like a good little Saxon, he had another thing coming. People had gone out of their way her whole life to remind her that she wasn't a Saxon, and she was more than willing to embrace that now.

Pulling up her sleeve, Hermione traced the faded blue tattoo that circled her arm just above the elbow. Never had she been so happy to have the reminder of who she truly was. She was Hermione, daughter of Ivar, and she had the blood of Cartimandua in her veins.

She would get her revenge on King Tom, even if she died trying.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad you are enjoying this AU...sometimes it almost seems like too much of a stretch to even call this an AU, since it is so separate, so it means so much that you are enjoying it still. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. HUGE thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter eleven and be on the lookout for chapter twelve next week!

* * *

Thorfinn drank deeply from the horn of ale in front of him. They had finally lit his father's funeral pyre that day, after Leoflaed and Eirik had made their way to the homestead. It was hard for the three siblings to say goodbye to their father, when he had been snatched from them so suddenly.

In the week since King Tom had ridden into their camp and killed Ivar, Thorfinn had felt completely adrift. Hermione's absence was keenly felt, too, not just by him, but by Leoflaed and Eirik as well. It didn't feel right to say goodbye to their father without her being there as well, but Thorfinn was sure that she would understand. He would save her and bring her back and then she could pay her respects.

His time had been completely consumed by matters of running _his_ new estate. The honor of being granted his own father's lands had never felt so absolutely hollow. It was only compounded by the fact that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing, something his father had frequently warned him of. He was lucky that Eirik had come home nearly immediately at learning about Ivar's murder, or else Thorfinn was sure that everything would have gone to shite.

His mother had been no help to him thus far, never finding much interest in helping his father run the Estate. She had been nearly inconsolable over the death of her husband, and she'd argued with her three children's decision to build Ivar the funeral pyre, saying it was undignified. Still, Thorfinn and Eirik knew that it was what their father would have wanted. Every time that he tried to promise his mother justice for what had happened, it would send her in a whole new round of tears, groaning that she was going to lose her son as well. She wouldn't hear mention of going to Hogschester, or of retrieving Hermione.

His heart ached when he realized that Hermione would have known exactly what needed to be done, whenever he read one of the records that she had left. She was incredibly succinct in every note, her handwriting neat and easy to follow. He wondered if she didn't have a better handle on the goods that the lands his father had overseen than his father himself had. He wouldn't be surprised.

Thorfinn felt so stupid that he had only just come to appreciate how special Hermione was in his life. Her laugh, her smile, her teasing, her scent - all of it was haunting him, a phantom of what he could have had should he not have been so blind. It was difficult not to think of the woman he had intended on spending the rest of his life with, without dreading what she was going through at the hands of King Tom. He felt so useless, sitting here, when he should be off fighting for her. Finishing the ale, he slammed his drinking horn onto the table.

"Another ale, Earl Thorfinn?" Theo Nott asked cautiously. All those assembled had been giving him a wide berth all week, knowing that he was prone to fits of rage.

"Oh, please don't call me that," Thorfinn answered with a groan, his new title sounding awkward and unnatural. He'd never imagined being an Earl so soon, with so many people looking to him for guidance. Already, he'd had to call to assemble all of his thegns to explain the transition of power. His nerves were on edge, and he could tell that the other men were skeptical of his ability. Woden, _he_ was skeptical of his own ability.

Even though he hated his newly gained title, Thorfinn did think that another ale would be useful. He'd been so busy, he hadn't really been able to drown in his sorrows yet. Before he could call for another, his brother and sister joined him at the table, ales in hand. He eagerly took the offered ale and took another drink to collect his thoughts.

"Now that father's bones have come to rest," he started cautiously, "I think we need to discuss what is to be done about King Tom. I for one will not allow father's death to go unpunished. Tom is King, yes, but he had no right to come into our camp in the dead of night and kill a man who was loyal to Slytherin before Tom was ever even born."

"I still don't understand what happened," sweet Leoflaed said, confusion on her face. "Mother hasn't been very forthright with me about why father had to fight the King in the first place. Was there some kind of misunderstanding? And why would he take Hermione as a hostage?"

"He did not take Hermione as a hostage. Instead, he came demanding her hand in marriage," Thorfinn explained to the trio. "Father denied it, saying that he would not force Hermione into marriage with anyone she herself did not select. And so the King killed him and made off with Hermione. It is not right to leave her there in that man's clutches!"

"Thorfinn," Leoflaed said softly, reaching across the table. "Are you sure that Hermione might not want to stay with the King? Mother said that she danced with him all night at the wedding. Perhaps Hermione would like to be married to the King."

To his surprise, Eirik countered before Thorfinn could explain. "No, Hermione would not want to marry the person who killed our father. They were as close as father and daughter," Eirik said, sounding sure of himself. "Mother is just frightened that if we go to Hogschester that we will get ourselves killed. She has never had the fighting mind that father did. Even after decades married to father, there wasn't an ounce of Northman in her."

Thorfinn clapped his older brother on the shoulder. "Thank you, Eirik," he said, feeling grateful. The brothers had spent so many years living apart due to their age gap, but they were united in this. "Will you go with me to Hogschester to rescue Hermione?"

"I said that Hermione wouldn't want to marry the King, I didn't say I would go invading the capital," Eirik said, leaning back. "Hermione is like a sister to me, but I have children of my own now to raise. I cannot leave them behind to face the wrath of the King should we fail. Why should we help her?"

"Yes, Thorfinn, the King is well within his rights to demand her hand, if Hermione is still a maiden," Theo said smartly. "There is no way that the Bishop would consent to returning Hermione to you. And if Ivar stood in the way of the King's request, then the Bishop is unlikely to grant you any retribution."

Thorfinn narrowly avoided sneering at his new brother-in-law. "I am not suggesting that we go all the way to Hogschester to beg the Bishop to fix things for us," he exclaimed, smacking the table with his bare hands and wondering if he was the only one left in his family who still had any sense. "I am talking about getting revenge on the King. I will kill him and I will bring Hermione back here with me, where she belongs." His cheeks felt hot, and he wondered if it was due to the ale or his admission.

"You really care for her," Leoflaed said, breaking the silence, with a serene smile on her face.

"I _love_ her," he admitted, staring at the table, unable to face his family. He knew now that he truly did love Hermione, and he'd very nearly squandered his chance to find happiness with her. Now that he was Earl, there was no reason why they couldn't be married, if he could still convince her to be with him, but he knew that it would take significant work after their misunderstanding. Being separated from her was like a physical ache, and he just knew if he could save her things would be better. "I can not live without her - this week should show you that," he added, feeling helpless.

"So we overthrow the King," Eirik said, sounding perfectly confident in his plan. "And bring Hermione home. I swear it to you, Earl Thorfinn, that I will help you in this endeavor, to the best of my ability," he said, smiling at the new title his younger brother now wielded. Thorfinn could feel a knot welling in his throat, knowing just how much his brother was risking to help him.

"Hermione would do the same for me," Leoflaed said solemnly. "While I cannot carry a sword, I promise that I will do anything in my ability to help you, Earl Thorfinn."

Immediately, the three children of Ivar turned to look at Theo Nott, knowing that he was the weakest link out of the four of them. While he had been helpful around their homestead this past week, Thorfinn knew that the relationship was still new and strange, hinging only on his marriage to Leoflaed.

Theo swallowed thickly. "I have ten well trained men to offer to your cause, Earl Thorfinn, and many more who would be easily trained," he said, his face looking paler than usual. Of course, to join them would come at a great personal risk to the young thegn.

"Are you certain you wish to do this Theo?" Thorfinn asked. "As you know, this is treason, what we are talking about. There is a chance that all of us will be killed."

Theo nodded, staring Thorfinn in the eyes. "Yes, I am sure. King Salazar never would have done something like this. We cannot allow King Tom to think that it's okay," he responded. "Besides, if Hermione is to become my sister-in-law than my loyalty should be to her and not to the King," he said with a sheepish smile.

"Thank you," Thorfinn said, grasping Theo's hand in his, a sign of their agreement. "But know this, Nott. If you should betray us, know that not even the love my sister holds for you could stop me from disemboweling you."

He shook his head. "No, I would never betray you, I swear it," he assured him, though he looked even paler than before.

"Although I have faith in our men, we cannot take Hogschester with just a handful of men," Eirik said with a serious look on his face, ready to get down to the business of planning their rebellion. "We should send some men through the gates, and I can lead a fighting force up the Slyth river on my ships - hitting them from two sides at once."

"Yes, we will need to find other people who are unhappy with the King, and try to recruit them," Leoflaed said smartly. "But only if they can be trusted. For instance, I think it wouldn't be too difficult to flip Rabastan."

"Rabastan? Isn't he brother to Rodolphus?" Thorfinn asked, sounding confused. "Rodolphus is Tom's staunchest supporter. What's to stop him from ratting us out at the first opportunity?"

"Yes, he is Rodolphus's brother, but there is strife there," Eirik added. "I spoke with him at the feast and he is very upset to be relegated to their father's lands, doing all of the hard work while Rodolphus and his insufferable wife go traveling around with the court. I don't think it would take much at all to get him to turn on his brother, and in turn, the King."

"Excellent, I will ride to their lands on the morrow," Thorfinn said, feeling better now that they had a plan coming together. "Eirik, can you come with me? It will be on your way home."

"Of course, brother," Eirik said with a nod.

"Perhaps we could reach out to Hermione's parents?" Theo offered quietly. "Surely they would want to help get their daughter back from a man would would force her into marriage."

Thorfinn winced, unsure if Theo knew the story of how Hermione had come to live with them. Did he know that the Grangers had essentially sold Hermione without a care in the world to how she felt about it? However, they were certainly worth reaching out to. They were more likely to be loyal to their own flesh and blood than a King that they'd never met.

"I will visit Eni on the way back from Rabastan's lands," Thorfinn said, knowing that he wasn't going to enjoy that visit one bit. He wondered if Eni and his wife had told their other children about the daughter that they'd given away before they had come along.

"And who shall I visit on my way home?" Leoflaed asked, holding her hands demurely in her lap.

Eirik made a noise of concern. "This will be very dangerous Leoflaed. It's best not to put yourself in harm's way."

"I am not going to sit around while Hermione is in danger," Leoflaed snapped. "I said that I was going to help and I intend to. I can be very discerning and I promise you that I won't reveal anything critical if I am not positive that the thegn would be willing to work for us. And I am not completely helpless. I still remember the things that father taught me," she said primly.

"We are only worried for your safety, Leoflaed," Eirik said, sounding wholly unconvinced. While he didn't doubt that she remembered some of the self-defense that Ivar had instilled in her, he knew there was a big difference between practice and actually having to stab someone.

Leoflaed completely ignored him. "I will go and speak with Rosier then," she said with the same practiced smile. "He is a Frank and I am sure that he doesn't care for the way the King has been speaking about people who aren't Saxon, especially since he maintains the burgh closest to the Danes. I am sure he doesn't appreciate being lumped in with them."

Knowing that he couldn't dissuade Leoflaed once she'd set her mind to something, Thorfinn just nodded. "So we will all leave tomorrow, then," he said, itching with anticipation now that things were finally coming together. He felt better knowing that he had his family on his side. "But, promise that we will not tell mother sooner than when we actually decide to go. I don't trust her in her grief."

The other three agreed to tell Osthryth nothing. They knew it would be difficult to keep such a significant secret from her, but it was in the best interest of everyone involved. They drank a horn of ale together, binding them together even more tightly.

Thorfinn bid them all goodnight once it was finished, wanting to get an early start the next day, and he needed to be clear headed to do that. As he was walking back from their feasting hall, Theo jogged to catch up to him. "I've been summoned to the Witen," he said quietly. "I am sure that King Tom wishes to announce his plans to marry Lady Hermione."

"When do you leave?" Thorfinn asked, wondering how much time they had to plan their attack before Hermione would be married to the King. He wanted to spare her of that fate if he could, not trusting Tom one bit.

"I, too, will leave in the morning," Theo answered. The pair walked in silence for a few beats. "I could...speak with Lady Hermione. I will say that Leoflaed inquiries after her childhood friend."

"And why would you do that? I would say it only increases the risk that we are discovered," Thorfinn said, feeling slightly suspicious of the other man's motives.

"I know that you want to rescue Hermione, but your mother's words linger. What if she is content to marry the King, don't you wonder?" Theo explained. "I could ask her, find out for certain that she does want to come home. Plus, it would give the Lady strength and courage to know that we have not forgotten her."

Thorfinn scoffed. "Forgotten her? How could she ever think that?" he wondered aloud. Hermione was just about the only thing that he could think about.

"Well, it has already been a week, and I am sure she is alone and afraid in Hogschester. She won't find many friends there, given the circumstance of her birth," Theo said, kindly. "She will have to wait even longer before her rescue can be arranged. Each day will pass, leaving her with less hope than the day before."

Suddenly, Thorfinn had the horrible realization that it would not be the first time Hermione's family had forgotten her and moved on. Hopefully she did not lump _him_ in with the likes of her parents. But, he could see Theo's point as well. It should bring her comfort to know that they were doing everything they could to save her - that he would overthrow even the King to get her back.

"Alright, if you can speak to her without raising suspicion, please do," he said. "Let her know how much we care about her, and that we _will_ come for her. Let me know what she says in return."

"I will do that, Earl Thorfinn," Theo said with a nod, before turning back to the feasting hall, leaving Thorfinn alone with his thoughts.

He didn't know what he would do if it turned out that Hermione was happy with the King, a hint of jealousy bubbling back up in him. He wanted to believe it was impossible, remembering the desperate way she'd called his name when the King had dragged her away from them. But, he knew that he needed to face the possibility that she could never return his feelings as well. He loved Hermione so much, but he needed the chance to tell her that in person, to prove that he was the right man for her. He needed to beg her forgiveness and get her to agree to marry him, an idea that he'd once scoffed at.

He wouldn't rest until he got the chance to set things right.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am glad so many of you are seeing Thorfinn's devotion now :D You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. HUGE thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twelve and be on the lookout for chapter thirteen soon!

* * *

Hermione had barely been living in Hogschester for a week, but she already hated it. She felt like some kind of unusual creature that no one had seen before and everyone stared at her. Though she wasn't entirely sure how, everyone seemed to know that the King planned on marrying _her_ , even though it hadn't been formally announced yet. It was clear that several Ealdormen were not one bit pleased that their own daughters hadn't been chosen and didn't feel badly about letting it be known to her face.

There were not many women who did seem disappointed, Hermione noted gratefully. Well, that was except for Bellatrix, who loudly admonished Hermione every chance she got, though she played nice in front of the King. However, that wasn't to say that the other women were nice to her. Instead, they stared at her with a kind of horror, after Bellatrix had played up the fact that she was a Brigante, making up silly traditions that Hermione supposedly upheld. They were all frightened of her.

And if these women were too stupid to believe that she would slit their throats and cover herself in their blood, then she wasn't going to correct them. She enjoyed the large berth that it provided her.

Although many of the women would leave her alone, Hermione was not free to spend her days as she would like. Most of her time was spent in Bellatrix's company, and she was sure that the other woman was making her do things she knew Hermione would hate. She'd been forced to pray for several hours a day, until her knees ached and she had made up a game to try to insert Woden in all of the prayers, knowing how much it irritated Bellatrix.

King Tom had not even permitted her to look at the library yet, according to Bellatrix, because he doubted her piousness. No doubt he was just using it as carrot to get her to behave. If he continued to withhold her access until _eventually_ she was good, perhaps he thought she would fall in line. Apparently he didn't know her that well.

The Bishop, a mysterious man called Severus, whom Hermione had not yet had the pleasure of meeting had designed a series of tests to see if she was worthy of reviewing any of the Kingdoms records. That was how she found herself spending time reading and copying the account of the life of some silly Saint called Cuthburt. So far, she couldn't figure out what was so special about him, except his ability to eschew all worldly pleasures. Why that made someone saintly, she couldn't tell you, but copy on she did, taking extra pride in her penmanship, knowing that it only made Bellatrix more sour. It wasn't her fault that Bellatrix had not been taught to read.

The King did deign to meet with her once a day, normally at a meal time. Hermione quickly found herself detesting her body's need for food - maybe that Cuthburt was onto something after all. He always acted as if nothing was wrong, as if he hadn't just killed Ivar in front of her eyes. He tried to sow discord between her and her memory of the Rowles, frequently reminding her that none of this needed to happen if Thorfinn would have just agreed to the trade. She was grateful that Thorfinn hadn't just traded her from her lands, as she would have found that much more hurtful than him asking her to be his mistress. She knew that he'd only denied the King because he was jealous of the idea of her being with anyone but him, but at least she knew he felt something for her.

To keep Ivar in her memory, Hermione devoted herself to training with her dagger everyday. She _did_ have some time to herself and she filled that time with practiced steps and arm movements that she'd mastered when she was barely ten. Her memory provided Earl Ivar's gentle and encouraging voice as she spun around an empty courtyard battling invisible foes. She wondered if he would be proud of her.

It was during one of these trainings that Hermione got to know Fenrir better. "Did your Danish father teach you that?" a gravelly voice called out to her, breaking Hermione's concentration.

She turned to look at the massive man, who was leaning against the vine covered wall, watching her with hungry blue eyes. Hermione took a deep breath and leveled a glare at him. "Ivar _wasn't_ Danish, he was a Northman," she said insistently.

"Dane, Northman, a vikingr is a vikingr," he said, his lips pulled back to reveal a ghoulish grin, his teeth stained red. "You move like a vikingr."

Hermione pursed her lips in annoyance, thinking over his words. Although she didn't want to alienate more people here than she already did, by virtue of who she was. Rodolphus and Bellatrix were rude to her at every chance, so she wasn't going to push Fenrir into the enemy category if she didn't have to. Yes, he enjoyed trying to scare her, but his tricks had lost their shock at this point. "Yes, Earl Ivar taught me this. He said that being a woman is no reason not to be able to defend yourself."

Fenrir dropped his head back in a hearty laugh. "That is smart advice. You never know who is waiting to stab you in the back around here," he told her. "Will you sit with me? I have bread pillaged from the kitchen," he said with a joking tone.

She thought about it for a moment, before moving to sit with the man. "I thought you only ate _people_ ," she teased him back with a pointed stare, only to make him laugh again. She took some of the offered bread, eating it greedily.

Hermione took a moment to observe the man who had pledged himself to King Tom. His hair was a dark brown, unlike the blond that the Rowles favored, but he wore his hair long same as her surrogate family. While Ivar normally only braided his hair back if he was going riding or fighting, Fenrir favored the style, wearing them everyday. He was fastidiously clean, judging by the state of his nails, but he favored the Danish style of dress, which set him apart from the rest of the Saxons.

"Why did you pledge yourself to King Tom?" she questioned, wondering just what his motives could be for joining him. Everything she knew about Fenrir screamed independent spirit and she couldn't imagine that subjugation to a King that he could squash with his bare hands meshed with that.

Fenrir shrugged his shoulders. "I just want to make my wealth and find lands to settle. I have been nomadic for too long," he answered her honestly. "I can do both with King Tom."

"Wouldn't you have better luck making your wealth by pillaging some of these Ealdermen? Rodolphus perhaps? He's here in Hogschester, leaving his homestead ripe for the picking," Hermione suggested, a bit uncharitably. Since learning that it was Rodolphus who had knocked Thorfinn off his horse, leaving him for dead, Hermione had been doing everything she could to undermine him.

"Not the biggest fan of Rodolphus?" Fenrir asked with a grin. "Maybe I should take you viking with me, since you seem to have it all planned out."

"I don't think that's very funny," she said with a sniff. Just because she had made the joke didn't mean that she thought stealing was okay.

Fenrir rolled his eyes at her. "Yes, wouldn't want to be stealing the King's betrothed right from under his nose," he growled. "Why do _you_ pledge yourself to King Tom?" he asked her, sounding a bit suspicious and accusatory.

"Well, I don't suppose that I actually have pledged myself to him," Hermione answered with a shrug. There had been no kneeling, no solemn oaths to never betray him, at least not yet. "Up until a week ago I was a total nobody, barely better than a ceorl, and the King didn't even know who I was."

"But you are still here even though you do not wish to be," Fenrir prodded. "If you do not follow Tom, why are you eating his food and sharing his roof?"

She did feel a little bit guilty about that. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she tired to formulate a response. "Because I know if I ran, they would find me within a day, and probably kill me for the trouble," she explained. "Earl Ivar died trying to protect me, and it would just feel like a waste if I went and got myself killed. So I will stay."

Fenrir nodded in understanding. "Then you better practice your dagger skills, and keep sharp. You never know when you will find yourself out of favor," he warned her, pointedly. He stood abruptly from where they were resting against the wall of the courtyard. "I will come back here tomorrow. If you are practicing, I might be able to help," he offered with a shrug.

Hermione nodded, knowing that she would take help from anywhere she could get it at this point. She didn't know _what_ she was going to do yet, but she refused to be unprepared. She watched the tall Dane lumber away from the courtyard, off to do who knows what. A small smile came over her face - who would have thought that the first bright spot since coming to Hogschester was Fenrir Greyback?

* * *

"You are late," Tom's voice rang out in the small hall as soon as Hermione and Bellatrix crossed the threshold. "Rodolphus and I were just about to call for a search party," he said with a sarcastic sneer.

The King had arranged for a little dinner to be shared between Hermione, himself, Rodolphus and Bellatrix. However, it had clearly already gotten off on the wrong foot. Bellatrix pushed Hermione forward towards the table, causing the brunette to stumble forward and catch herself just in time. "Apologies my King, it is all her fault," she said, immediately trying to place all of the blame where it belonged. "She was bathing. _Again_."

Bellatrix made no secret how odd she found Hermione's frequent bathing habit, and Hermione was only too willing to do it more often knowing how much it incensed the dark-haired woman. She had been to the little stream every day since she'd first arrived at Hogschester. It was one of her few pleasures, and she loved to hear Bellatrix sputter on the stream banks about her odd behavior.

"Apologies my King," Hermione apologized quickly, smoothing the fabric of her new blue dress.. "I always lose track of time." She didn't often go out of her way to suck up to the King, but she always did so in front of Bellatrix, knowing that it drove the woman mad. Staring at the woman across the table, she gave her a smile that only served to infuriate Bellatrix further.

"Bellatrix, I expect you to keep her on time," Tom said, sounding disappointed in the other woman.

Bellatrix sputtered in response. "My King, she bathes _too much_. Every single day she is dragging me out to _clean_ herself. It's excessive," she said, probably thinking that she was putting her foot down. "Not to mention the hideous tattoo that she wears on her arm, something I am sure she got from her _savage_ parents."

Tom's eyes lit up at the mention of the tattoo. "Do you have a tattoo, my Lady? I must say I am intrigued."

"Yes, Tom," she answered, softly, her eyes trailing over the feast that was being brought in by servants. The crowning dish - a massive buck - had to be carried in by three men. "I was tattooed with woad when I was a girl, as is common for my people. It was merely the beginning, but it was never finished."

"And just where is this tattoo?" he asked, nodding at her explanation. "I must confess, I am very eager to see it," he added with a lascivious grin, making some hideous allusion to their wedding night, something he liked to remind her of often.

She gave him a tight smile in return. "It's on my arm, my King. Above my elbow," she answered. "But it is merely a series of dots. Certainly nothing as beautiful as what other Celts have."

"Yes, I am sure I will behold other things of great beauty to look at," he said with a smirk. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, now sure that he was just goading her, trying to get a rise out of her.

"My King, she also has a dagger!" Bellatrix added with a shout. Hermione pursed her lips. He was goading Bellatrix as well, it would seem. She hated being reminded of their impending wedding and had risen to the bait magnificently. "I've seen it - she wears it on her leg. And she trains with it in the courtyard."

Her tattling backfired. The King snapped his head to look at Bellatrix. "And why are _you_ not also in the courtyard with Lady Hermione while she trains?" he demanded, looking very annoyed with the woman, while she gaped at him like a fish.

"Because I don't need a nursemaid," Hermione insisted, taking some pity on the woman. "I don't need Bellatrix with me for every second of the day. It's no secret that we don't get along, and it's just cruel to force us to continue to spend time with one another," she complained, her voice strong and sure, only to remember that Tom was meant to be addressed in a certain way. "My King," she added.

"Is that so?" he asked, not doing anything to hide the edge to his voice. "She is supposed to be watching you, to make sure that you won't run away."

"Where would I go?" Hermione argued suddenly, feeling very annoyed. "In case you haven't noticed, no one here is jumping to help me. Even if I managed to get out of the city walls, I would be caught in a matter of hours," she said, feeling rather bitter about the situation, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Perhaps it would be best to give the woman more independence," Rodolphus said, to Hermione's surprise. "After all, if she's going to be joining the household, she will need more latitude to rule effectively as a Lady should," he explained, before giving Hermione a sneer. "And, if you learn that she cannot be trusted, then perhaps, she isn't suitable for the job."

Tom looked at his closest advisor for a moment, thinking over the words. "Perhaps I have been a bit too restrictive, my Lady," he finally said to Hermione. "It's only that I want to be certain that you are settling in well here at Hogschester. After all, it will be your home for most of the year."

Hermione did not believe for one minute that he wanted her to feel at home there, but instead that he just enjoyed keeping her close to him, for whatever reason. She still couldn't figure out what was so special about _her_ that the King had chosen her to marry. However, she was grateful to learn that Bellatrix wouldn't be stuck to her hip at all times. "Thank you, my King."

"And, for the record, I find that I quite enjoy your _clean_ scent. You may continue with your bathing schedule as it suits you," he said with a smirk, knowing exactly what he was doing. Bellatrix looked absolutely aghast, but didn't contradict him. "Now, moving on to _other_ topics. Rodolphus, when will everyone arrive for the Witen?"

"We have requested that they arrive in a week's time," Rodolphus said. "If only to allow time for those Western Lords to make their way to the capital. We wanted to be sure that everyone who wished to make their feelings known be able to arrive in time."

"So it will likely be very full then," Tom said with an amused look on his face. "Full of angry thegns who can't understand why I didn't choose their own daughters to marry. And how are preparations? I want everything to go perfectly when I present Hermione to them."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise when she heard that he was planning on presenting her. Vaguely, she could hear Rodolphus describing the minutiae of the preparations, but drowned out his voice. Her mind instantly went to work, thinking of ways that she could sabotage the event. Surely, if the Witen did not approve of her, then King Tom would not be able to marry her? They were already primed to dislike her, she would just have to play up everything that they already thought about her, and she would be free.

Her stomach clenched, wondering if Thorfinn would be among the men summoned. _If he was even alive_ , her traitorous mind reminded her. Shoving that from her mind, she tried to remind herself that she needed to keep positive. She couldn't be responsible for another man's death, especially one whom she cared for so deeply. If Thorfinn would even want to see her again would be an entirely different subject. Would Eirik? Or Leoflaed? She wouldn't blame them if they wanted nothing to do with her.

Hearing her name brought her back to the discussion. "Rodolphus, I want your help in getting as many of these puffed up lords on our side as possible," Tom said imperiously. "I might be young, but you must convince them that this is the best decision."

Rodolphus gave her a disdainful look, but nodded in agreement. "It will be difficult because of the woman you've chosen, my Lord, but it will be done," he answered. "Just as I've always done."

Tom smiled, running his hand down the back of Hermione's head, petting her hair as if she were some kind of dog. "Thank you Rodolphus. That eases my mind," he said, sounding so sure of himself.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am really excited about this chapter in particular. But can you believe there are only ten chapters left?! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Huge thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought about chapter thirteen and be on the lookout for chapter fourteen later this week!

* * *

Thorfinn and Eirik had left his homestead early in the morning, before the sun had even come up over the horizon. It would be a hard day's ride, but if they could keep up their pace, he knew that they would make it to Rabastan's lands before evening.

Of course, getting there was only half the battle. Once they were there, they would have to convince the man to turn on his older brother and the King to fight with them. Thorfinn had felt terrible on the whole ride over, thinking that this was where their plan would go to ruin. Surely, he would describe his rebellion only to have Rabastan run off to King Tom, who would kill them all, just as he'd killed Ivar. Especially since Thorfinn had absolutely nothing to persuade Rabastan with - what use was Thorfinn's love for Hermione to him?

Eirik had been reassuring him the whole way, telling him that Rabastan was incredibly frustrated at being shoved aside for his brother's benefit and that he would be easy to turn. "And, if he refuses, then we just kill him," Eirik said ruthlessly, with a shrug of his shoulders, as though it were nothing. Thorfinn had certainly killed men before, but to kill someone just because they didn't agree with you seemed unnecessarily cruel. But, perhaps it was a necessity. He wasn't going to cross that bridge until they got there.

Even though the whole trip to visit Rabastan seemed hopelessly pointless, Thorfinn knew that he would leave no rock unturned in his quest for vengeance and to bring Hermione home. The thought of her alone in the capital with Tom was enough to set his blood boiling. Every night he dreamt of her terrified eyes and they way she'd pleaded for him to help her when she'd been on the back of Tom's horse.

He would go to Hogschester and fight for her even if it meant certain death, if only because he loved her so much. He couldn't live knowing that he hadn't told her just what she meant to him and to apologize for the way he'd acted. He hadn't meant to brush her feelings aside, he just hadn't realized how deep they'd gotten for one another. He wanted to hold her in his arms again, kiss her for hours, and convince her how sorry he was. Convince her that absolutely nothing would ever keep them apart again.

It was well after noon when Thorfinn and Eirik finally reached Rabastan's lands. Thorfinn was glad to have his brother's company on the journey because he knew that Eirik was one of the only people keeping him from just riding to Hogschester alone. Although he wished it could have been achieved under different circumstances, Thorfinn was glad to have this time to spend with his brother. Eirik was so much older and basically already out of the house when Thorfinn had been aware of him.

He felt moved to tell his brother that. "Eirik, thank you so much for riding with me," he said after clearing his throat. "I know that you don't have to put yourself in danger like this for me, it means a lot."

Eirik grabbed Thorfinn's arm in a handshake. "Ivar was my father just as much as yours, and Hermione _is_ my sister," he said seriously, before cracking a smile. "And besides, if you take the crown from King Tom, well...I can have father's lands as well."

"I would give you the lands now if I could," Thorfinn said quickly, feeling as though he'd really been given far too much responsibility for someone who'd never even tended a hide on his own. "You are the older son, it only makes sense that you would have father's lands and title."

"Don't worry, Thorfinn, I don't resent you," Eirik told him honestly. "Besides, I will get the lands either way in the end - either you become King or you die. Then, they will go to me," he said teasingly, trying to make light of the insane situation they'd gotten themselves into, trying to overthrow the King.

Despite being a bit morbid, Thorfinn found that it did make him feel better. It would take some time, but he wouldn't sit by and not sort things out. He'd either end up dead or with a new King, but at least it wouldn't be unknown. "Hey, if I die, you will be right there next to me, brother," he answered back, praying to Woden that that would not be either of their fates.

Before they could banter more about what might happen, Rabastan's homestead was revealed. Pushing their horses, they made their presence known. "Rabastan! It is Earl Thorfinn come to speak to you!" he shouted, hoping that his voice sounded authoritative and stern, not nervous like he felt.

It did not take long for the dark haired man to come out of his house, a sanguine smile on his face. "Ah yes, Earl Thorfinn, I did hear about your untimely promotion," he said, his unusually light green eyes flickering between the faces of the two brothers. "I think this would be a discussion better held inside, don't you?"

Thorfinn and Eirik looked at each other in confusion, before dismounting from their horses. They followed the other man inside of his home and took a seat at his table. Rabastan whispered something to his blond wife, round with child. She hustled around the homestead and before long they each had a horn of ale in hand. Rabastan pulled his wife to sit next to him, not hiding the kisses that he pressed below her ear. "Thank you, Luna my love," he whispered loud enough for the brothers to hear. "So, I understand you are here to discuss retribution to the King for killing your father and taking your Celt away from you."

Thorfinn looked to his brother in shock, wondering just how Rabastan had learned of their plot so quickly. They'd only made their pact the night before. Did their father's homestead have a spy? Thorfinn didn't want to overplay his hand, though. "And just what would make you think that, Rabastan?" he asked.

Rabastan pressed his lips to Luna's neck once more, before petting her long, blonde hair. "My Luna is a seer," he said proudly. "My brother hoped to give me a simple wife, someone to live my life with but not one who would embolden me. Someone who wouldn't help me to take what is rightfully mine. He couldn't have made a worse decision."

"I know that you want her back, my Lord. I've seen the way that you long to hold her in your arms again," Luna said, staring unblinkingly at Thorfinn, making him feel uneasy. "You have a hard journey ahead of yourself."

"Will I get her back?" Thorfinn questioned, greedy and eager for any information this witch could give him.

Luna pressed her eyes closed in concentration for several tense moments, before snapping them back open. "I am not certain my Lord," she answered with a frown. "Your future is still too uncertain. You must remember that your problem cannot solely be solved by bridging physical distance."

Thorfinn stared at her, wondering what exactly she meant. He didn't know whether he believed her status as a seer, but he could tell that there was something unusual about the woman. Eirik was much more focused on the topic at hand, and questioned Rabastan directly. "Does this mean that you will stand with us and fight against King Tom?"

"It means that I will stand with you and fight against my _brother_ and the man that he has made King," Rabastan said cryptically, but agreeing nonetheless. "But only if I think that you have a good plan. I won't go rushing to my death, putting Luna in danger, only to have you underestimate the King," he continued crossing his arms across his chest. "We already know that Thorfinn is prone to acting before _thinking_."

"I will crush the scrawny King with my bare hands," Thorfinn growled threateningly. "He will not even know we are coming. Hermione is too important to me to leave this to chance. We won't attack unless we know we have a plan that means we can win."

Rabastan stared hard at the two brothers, carefully considering Thorfinn's words and temperament. "You do not understand your enemy, Earl Thorfinn," he said simply. "Tom might be _scrawny_ compared to you, but he is most effective behind the scenes, manipulating people into traps with such ease that they don't even realize they've caused their own demise until it's too late."

Thorfinn could feel his cheeks color a bit at that, realizing that that was _exactly_ what had happened to him and his father when he'd gone to request lands. Tom had put them in a position where they could only offend Hermione, no matter the decision that they made in the end.

Luna bent her head so that she could whisper something into Rabastan's ear, but it was too quiet for them to make out. At the end of it, though, Rabastan was smiling like a shark. "It is good, then, that you have me on your side, to help you see through all of Tom's tricks," he said. "I believe in you Earl Thorfinn. And so, I will fight with you."

With their new alliance formed, the three men happily drank their fill of ale, until the sun was dipping low on the horizon. Eirik was eager to return to his home to see his children and wife once more, with the knowledge that he would soon have to return to his brother's side. Thorfinn on the other hand was anxious to set out to visit Hermione's family, hoping to gain their assistance as well.

Rabastan and Luna joined them outside where their rested horses were waiting. "I wish you good luck in your travels, Earl Thorfinn," Luna said with a dreamy look on her face, as though she were seeing something that wasn't there.

"Thank you, my Lady," Thorfinn answered politely, stumbling somewhat awkwardly over the pleasantries. "And, I wish for you to give birth to a healthy, strong son," he said, staring at the swell of her stomach, wondering how it was that she hadn't given birth already.

She smiled back at him. "It is a daughter, my Lord," she corrected politely, confidently. "But I know that she will be strong just the same."

* * *

After getting Rabastan on his side, which seemed a coup in and of itself, Thorfinn felt bolstered in his chances with speaking to Hermione's family. But, as he got closer and closer to her family's home, he became more and more nervous. By the time the second day had come, discouraged by a poor night's sleep on hard ground, Thorfinn was sure that they would chase him off.

He hadn't been back to Hermione's home since the day that Hermione had come back with them. Now that he was a man grown, all of his fears and curiosities about the woad stained Britons seemed close, but also far away. He was no longer worried about having his head cut off and displayed in front of their home, though he was even more aware of their otherness. Another, guiltier part of him thought that perhaps he should worry about keeping his head on his shoulders should they find out what he'd done to their daughter or kin.

He rode down the path to their thatch-roofed home, thinking that it seemed smaller now than it had in his memory. This time, he did not have to announce his presence, as there was one heavily tattooed young man waiting outside, who immediately walked into the hut when he saw Thorfinn approach. It wasn't long until he was joined by another young man, and the thegn. The two boys carried spears, obviously put on edge by the mystery rider.

When he finally approached the trio, Eni stared at him in confusion, before recognition dawned on him. "Young Thorfinn," he said, sounding surprised. "It has been many years. Has something happened with Jarl Ivar?"

Thorfinn answered him with a grimace, barely able to hold onto his emotions. "Yes, Eni. My father was murdered," he said grimly. "And now I rule his lands in his place, as Earl."

Eni gave him a grave look. "Perhaps this is a discussion better held inside," he answered, ushering the large man into their small home. "Aseu, Ario, put down those spears. Jarl Thorfinn is not here to harm us," he barked at the twin boys.

Once he was inside, Eni served him and his sons mead. Thorfinn stared at the two boys with barely concealed awe. They had tattoos up and down their arms and legs, showing all matter of complicated knots and snarling animals. It was quite fierce to behold, the blue color standing out brilliantly from their pale skin. However, the look in their eyes was far more fierce than their tattoos. Thorfinn did not like to feel the weight of their stare on him, as they looked far too much like Hermione for his liking.

"Tell me what you've come here for, Jarl Thorfinn," Eni asked, a serious look in his eyes. "I doubt it was to personally tell me of your father's death, when a messenger would do."

"Yes, I am afraid I come for a far graver reason than that," Thorfinn said, looking between the three men, all with their wild brown hair. "King Tom is the one who murdered my father, and he did so in order to capture Hermione and make her his bride. I tried to protect her at the time, but I failed."

Eni gave him a pained look. "Hermione, my daughter?" he asked, sounding nostalgic and concerned. "I _always_ asked your father about her. He said that she was very gifted. It gave me comfort to know that she was able to learn with your family, something I never could have given her." It sounded as though he were trying to absolve himself of some of the guilt of giving her away.

Thorfinn took another drink before broaching the reason that he came. "I intend to get revenge for my father's murder, and to rescue Hermione from her captor," he explained. "However, I cannot rise up against the King standing alone. He is too powerful."

"So you have come to ask us to fight with you," the one called Ario said, narrowing his eyes at the blond man. "Pardon me, my Lord, but how do we know that Hermione does not wish to stay with the King. Perhaps returning her to _you_ would not be the rescue you imagine."

"I know your sister, and I know that she would not want to be married to a man who killed my father," he insisted fiercely. "I am not a perfect man, and I know I have made mistakes, but I love Hermione too much to leave her alone with a man as dangerous as King Tom. If I have to die for her, I will!" His words rose in volume as he grew more passionate talking about Hermione with these strangers. They might share blood, but they don't have any right to question him where she was concerned.

The twins looked at each other, as if communicating with their thoughts, before they turned back to stare at him again. "My father is growing old and cannot fight as well as he used to," the other brother, Aseu said, not looking one bit moved by Thorfinn's outburst. "And Ario and I are still young and untested in battle. Why should we give our lives for some sister we have never met before, and leave our other sister all alone to fend for herself?"

Thorfinn stood abruptly, slamming his cup down on the table in anger. How could they so coldly dismiss Hermione? His heart ached for her, knowing how much her family had hurt her through her life and they were continuing to do that now. He felt some comfort in knowing that she would never know the truth of their callousness, at least not from his lips. "You know, Hermione felt replaced and forgotten by a family who sold her off for food rent. I do not blame her," he said with a snarl, feeling very upset on her behalf. "But she never stopped knowing who she was and where she came from. She was a proud Brigante through and through. And if something had happened to one of you, she would have stolen a horse and ridden through the night to get to you. Even though she'd never known you."

Unwilling to sit under their roof for a moment longer, Thorfinn stormed out of the hut and put as much distance between himself and the Grangers as possible, before he did something he'd truly regret. Eni and Ivar used to have such respect for one another, but he supposed that it must have died with his father.

As he was about to mount his horse, he felt a hand on his shoulder and put his hand on his pommel. "You better remove that hand, boy, if you want to still have it," he growled at Hermione's brother, not even bothering to face him.

"Jarl Thorfinn, we meant no offense," the boy said. "We did not mean to make you so angry, we only wanted to see how serious you were. But, you are more than determined. We will fight with you and get our sister back from the King."

Thorfinn spun around, nostrils flaring in annoyance. "So this was all some big test, was it?" he groused, annoyed that no one seemed to have any faith in him.

"Yes, a test, Jarl Thorfinn," Aseu said with a grin on his face. "Our sister, Diseta could probably fend for herself better than all of us. You have our word that we will join you, and raise other men to come as well. The Saxons will stand no chance against us - a Briton is worth ten Saxons!" he said with a boyish cheer. "Just tell us when and where, and we will be there."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Thorfinn felt better knowing that he had Hermione's family on his side. His future was becoming more certain with each passing minute.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad you liked Luna and Hermione's family, as I was really looking forward to that chapter. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions! Huge thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter fourteen and be on the lookout for chapter fifteen next week!

* * *

In the week leading up to the Witen, Hermione did as much as possible to make an impression on the traveling Lords. She wanted to be sure to seem as unusual and Celtic as possible, plaiting her hair in intricate patterns that she hadn't worn since Osthryth had brushed them out when she was a little girl. Though she was shorter than most of the assembled men, she made sure to look down on them as much as possible.

Even though she didn't need to, she decided to bathe everyday, walking back and forth to the stream in just her thin underdress, scandalizing ladies and men alike for being so immodest, but she didn't care one bit about what they had to say about it. She was glad that she'd convinced the King to remove Bellatrix as her chaperone, though, so she didn't have to deal with the other woman's constant complaining.

She hoped that she was making such an impression that even Rodolphus couldn't undo it.

When the King requested an audience with her in the middle of the day, Hermione knew that she'd made an impact. She wasn't blind to the fact that she was annoying a dangerous man, but she didn't particularly care to play by Tom's rules at this point. He'd stolen her away from a family she'd loved, killed her father figure, and might have killed a man who she felt very strongly about.

When she entered his chamber, Bellatrix was perched next to Tom at his table, looking far too smug and pleased with herself. It made Hermione feel a little bit nervous for the first time. "Good afternoon, my King," Hermione greeted, trying to affect an air of boredom. She didn't want to give Bellatrix the satisfaction of knowing how uneasy this made her.

"Good afternoon, my love," Tom answered back, with a frown. If he thought he was fooling anyone with his little terms of endearment, Hermione could see right through it. She had no illusions that Tom was marrying her because he had any genuine feelings for her, his charming facade completely shattered the night that he'd murdered Ivar. She was just another playing piece in this little game of his. "We are just waiting for an additional guest."

"I suppose you won't tell me why I am here until they arrive?" she questioned, feeling her adrenaline steadily increase. Just who else could be coming to meet with her, she wondered.

"You would be right," Tom said, rewarding her with a smile. But then, Rodolphus came waltzing in through the door, bringing Fenrir behind him. "At least they did not take long," he said smartly.

The last person Hermione would have expected to see was Fenrir. Her heart stuttered a moment, and she wondered if they were sending her back to the Rowles, with Fenrir acting as her guardian. She didn't trust the Dane not to try something with her, but she was confident that she could hold him off she needed to. Of course, Fenrir was now familiar with her fighting style with a dagger, having joined her training several times to bark out helpful tips. But, she doubted he would ever expect her to lunge for the sword at his waist.

Tom turned to look at Bellatrix expectantly. "No, Bellatrix, what was it that you told me this morning?" he asked patiently.

Bellatrix stared at Hermione triumphantly. "My Lord, you cannot marry the heathen, because she has been with another man," she said with a grin. "She was _bathing_ with the Dane Fenrir. She's been living with those vikingrs so long that she must have picked up some of their filthy habits," Bellatrix speculated wildly.

Hermione wasn't willing to overlook an opportunity to get out of the wedding, even if it meant people thought she'd been with Fenrir. She would go along with the lie if that meant she could just leave Hogschester. "My King, I would never want any rumor of impropriety to tarnish your good name," Hermione said smoothly, pressing a hand to her heart. "Although it is just rumor, perhaps I should be set aside for someone more worthy of you."

"If it is only a rumor, my Lady, know that I will not allow people to speak ill of your good name," Tom responded, with a sincere look. "Is it only a rumor."

"I've never _bathed_ with Fenrir, my King," Hermione responded honestly. "Though he and I have spent time alone together. I find I have more in common with him than I do with many of the Saxons here at Hogschester."

"But I _saw_ it with my own eyes!" Bellatrix seethed. "She went first, not caring about her indecent dress, and the Dane followed after her!"

"Fenrir, is there any truth to this?" Tom asked, looking skeptically at the Dane. Hermione was surprised to realize that Tom was actually trusting her word more than Bellatrix's, and she wondered if he genuinely found her more truthful, or if he was just trying to unsettle the other woman.

The large man grinned at the King. "I did not bath with your lady, my King," he said smoothly. "But I confess that I did follow Lady Hermione to the stream to watch her bathe. I gazed at her form, and what a form it is."

Hermione gasped in surprise, feeling violated that this man would look at her without her permission. She had thought that she and Fenrir were becoming tentative allies, connected to each other by their otherness in a court full of Saxons. Obviously, she had trusted him too much.

Fenrir smirked back at her, his blue eyes drinking in her body once more. "What? I never claimed that I was a good little Dane like your Ivar," he explained. "You should be glad that I didn't take you, my Lady."

Hermione was indignant. How dare he suggest that she was lucky that he hadn't forced himself on her? How dare he suggest that as a way to soothe her rage at having been spyed on? Tom saw her honest distress and found the opportunity to play the doting betrothed. "My Lady, I will not let this stand. Fenrir will have to be punished for looking upon you," he commanded. "You must forgive him - he is unused to our polite society and sometimes acts without thinking. Still...I think a week in a cell should remind him of _who he serves_ ," Tom said fiercely, motioning to some guards who quickly overpowered the Dane, who was struggling all the way.

The brunette stared at the furious man and worried over what would happen to him. Of course, she wanted Fenrir to be punished, but she did not trust Tom not to do something drastic. "What will happen to him?" she asked, once the doors closed behind him.

"A week in a dark cell with no food and only water," the King explained with a shrug of his shoulders. "He should be able to handle it without much issue, my Lady, but it will help to have him absent from the Witen. Our marriage can finally be announced then."

"So you intend to go forward with it?" Hermione asked, sounding totally perplexed. She'd honestly hoped that this little hiccup would mean that it could be called off once and for all. Bellatrix's face had fallen at the realization too, that her little plan had failed so spectacularly.

"Of course I do," Tom said, his pleasant tone slipping. "I won't let one little rumor ruin all the hard work I've put into bringing this Witen together. And, if Bellatrix can manage to keep her mouth shut, I don't think that we will have a problem," he continued, staring hard at the woman who couldn't seem to help but stir up trouble.

Bellatrix looked utterly miserable that her plan had failed and that she had managed to make the King so annoyed. "Whatever you think is best, my King," she said with a frown.

"Now, I have a lot to do to prepare for the Witen this afternoon, and I trust that you won't bother me again with something so frivolous," Tom commanded, standing up from his chair. "Bellatrix, you will take Hermione to her rooms and ensure that she finds something appropriate to wear for this afternoon."

Hermione frowned, realizing that she wouldn't be able to play one last final trick on Tom.

* * *

The Witen was much more intimidating than Hermione could have imagined. There were about twenty five of the Kings ealdormen assembled, and all of them were staring at her as if she were some kind of strange creature. Nearly all of them were unknown to her, and there was no sign of Thorfinn, Eirik, or anyone from the Rowle household.

The only familiar face that she could make out was that of Theo Nott, and he was doing his best to studiously ignore her eyes.

Hermione did not appreciate the way that they spoke about her, as if she couldn't hear all of the objections that they brought up on her worthiness to be the wife of the King. She stood there, staring down these men with a level stare, letting their words roll off her. Bellatrix might have put her in a Saxon dress, but she was still a Celt raised by a Northman and she wasn't going to do anything to disabuse them of the notion.

To her surprise, Rodolphus had made an impassioned speech on her behalf, explaining that although she was different, she would be able to bring a new perspective to the King's rule, aiding him to better understand all of the people of Slytherin. Somehow, he convinced the Lords that her presence would help to stifle uprisings from the Britons on the Kingdom's western edge, and that they might aspire to be more like the King's noble Lady, who had bettered herself to assimilate into their Saxon culture. Hermione had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from speaking out at _that_.

In the end, when the vote was finally called, all of the ealdormen gave their approval to the marriage of Lady Hermione and King Tom. No one bothered to ask if Hermione _also_ approved of the marriage, because, well, her opinion just didn't matter. Messengers were sent in every direction of the Kingdom to invite people to the wedding, which was to be held in a month's time.

Tom was more than thrilled that things had gone just as planned, and he quickly took her arm while he mingled in the room, soaking up the congratulations at having found a wife. Of course, she could _not_ be Queen, as the Saxon men were far too intimidated by a woman having equal title to her Kingly husband.

Hermione did not care to talk to any of the men that had just commented on her odd behavior and their concerns that her blood might taint the royal line, so she removed herself from Tom's side as quickly as she could. Exiting the hall, she pressed her hands to her stomach and tried to force herself to breathe calmly.

This was really happening, she realized. She was really going to be forced to marry the man who had killed her father figure. That was, unless she could figure out some way to stop it. She would have to be sneaky - she had no illusions now that Tom did not have people watching her every move, reporting it back to him, eager for his praise.

"Lady Hermione," a familiar voice called after her. She spun around to see Theo standing awkwardly next to you. "I wondered if I might take you for a turn about the gardens. My wife is eager to hear of your wellbeing. Of course, she is eager to join you for your wedding."

Hermione was confused, but took Nott's arm. Even if they had never got along, she was grateful to have any familiar face now that her world had gone completely topsy-turvy. "How does the Lady Leoflaed fare?" Hermione asked, cautiously. "I hope that she knows I am devastated by the loss of her father, Earl Ivar."

"Yes, I am certain you are," Theo said with a nod, leading her further and further away from prying ears. "Leoflaed is also devastated, though she grieves in her own way."

"I-" Hermione stumbled over her words, trying to think about how she wanted to put her thoughts. "I hope that she knows that I wouldn't blame them - any of the Rowles - if they hated me. I know that Earl Ivar's death is all my fault," she explained, tears forming in her eyes.

To her surprise, Theo shook his head. "No, Hermione, that's not true," he said sternly. "Thorfinn was there and he explained to us what happened. We know that it was the King's actions and his actions alone that caused Earl Ivar's untimely death."

"Thorfinn?" she asked, her heart pounding against her rib cage. "He's alive? Truly?" she questioned, holding onto Theo's hands tightly, needing an answer. Of course, she'd hoped that her friend was still alive, but it was hard to convince herself it was true without proof. What she wouldn't give to hear the massive man's booming laugh once more.

Theo wiped a tear that had fallen down her cheek. "Yes, you silly girl, he's alive," Theo answered with a smile. "Didn't they tell you? The King has made him Earl of his father's lands."

Hermione smiled. "No one would tell me anything about the Rowles. The last I saw, Rodolphus had knocked Thorfinn from his horse with his blade. I wasn't sure..." she trailed off, her heart nearly bursting with happiness that he was still alive.

"The Rowles have not forgotten about you, Hermione," Theo said earnestly. "None of them can bare the thought of leaving you here with Ivar's killer. But, before Thorfinn does anything drastic, I've told him I'd come here to find out what you really want. If you are content, with King Tom...if you would like the wedding to go on..." he trailed off, searching for the right words. "I cannot promise you that he won't seek vengeance on the King, but he does want what's right for _you_. Perhaps being rescued is not that."

She thought over his words hard. She remembered one of the last conversations she'd had with Thorfinn, about how she wanted to study at Hogschester, when she thought that all the King wanted from her was an apt mind. She had been so insistent that she wanted to study here, so she couldn't be too surprised that he would think she wanted to stay. However, Tom had ruined all of that for her. Her memory of Hogschester would forever be tainted by Ivar's death, and the terrible treatment she had received from being nothing more than a woman. The library remained out of her grasp, but even if she could spend every day reading, she doubted that she would feel anything but miserable.

"I've never wanted to go home more," Hermione said softly, staring at the ground. "Tell Thorfinn that...being here is not right for me." She _wanted_ to think that being with Thorfinn was right for her, but she still wasn't sure if there was a future there for them. Still, she couldn't deny that she felt strongly for him, stronger probably than she should. "Tell Thorfinn," she choked on the lump in her throat, a fresh wave of tears in her eyes. "Tell Thorfinn I send my love," she said, staring into Theo's eyes, honestly. "Tell all the Rowles I send my love."

Theo's face softened when he read the emotion clear on her face. He quickly pulled her into his arms in a hug, an uncharacteristic show of friendship. She and Theo had never seen eye to eye on account of her outspokenness, but now they were family, tied together by something greater than a marriage - the need for revenge.

"Lord Nott," Tom's voice broke into their quiet moment, his feet crunching the gravel beneath him with every step. "Have you made my bride cry?" he asked, his voice teasing, but with an edge underneath it.

"I am afraid I have my King," Theo said quite smoothly. "Only, I remembered how close Lady Hermione is to my wife, Lady Leoflaed. I knew that I had to share the good news with her - not more than two moons' turns after our own wedding, Leoflaed believes that she is with child."

Hermione stared up at Theo in wonder, unsure if it was true or a lie, but feeling pure happiness all the same. "They are tears of joy, my Lord," Hermione said, turning to face the King, hoping that he didn't see through her lies. "I am so happy for my oldest friend."

"Of course, it is a bit too early to announce," Theo supplied. "But we are hopeful. And I knew that Leoflaed would want to share the happy news with Lady Hermione, should she have accompanied me here today."

Tom quirked his lips in a smile. "Yes, congratulations are certainly in order," he said slowly. "Perhaps things will be more certain in time for the wedding, and you might announce the joyous news then. I wish you a healthy son," he tipped his head.

Theo kept a smile on his face, though Hermione could see his jaw twitch, indicating his annoyance. "We shall name him Ivar if we are blessed with a son," he answered, his voice going a bit cold. Theo gave Hermione and Tom a little bow, before turning to leave. He had let his anger at his father-in-law's murderer get the better of him and Hermione hoped that he hadn't shown his hand to King Tom.

The King turned to face her, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, cupping her jaw in his hands. "Was he bothering you, my Lady?" he asked, his blue eyes serious and hard. She could practically see the gears turning in his mind.

"Of course not," she answered smoothly. "I was just caught off guard. But I am so happy for Leoflaed," she answered, wondering if Theo had told the truth or if he'd been lying. "Will you escort me to my room? The excitement of the Witen has left me tired," she lied easily.

Tom was only too happy to walk her back, tucking her arm in his. He chatted idly about all the preparations that would have to be made prior to the wedding, but Hermione hadn't heard a word of it. Instead, she was too focused on the message that Theo had sent - the Rowles had not forgotten about her, and they were coming to save her. For the first time in weeks, she had hope.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so pleased that you are enjoying. This chapter has a bit more Fenrir, who you know that I love and can't help but include :) You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions! HUGE thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter fifteen and be on the lookout for chapter sixteen next week!

* * *

Hermione had been completely buoyed by her meeting with Theo. She had begun to fear the worst once her wedding to King Tom had been finalized, but now she was filled with hope that she wouldn't be stuck here forever. Thorfinn was coming for her, to save her, and she was going to make life as difficult as possible for the King and his staff before the wedding. Just because the Witen had given their approval did not mean that she had to be pleasant about it.

That meant that she'd continued to braid her hair into intricate little plaits just like her mother used to, helping to keep the wild locks back out of her face, only taking them out for her frequent trips to the stream. She also made a point to continue training with her dagger, despite the increasingly annoyed noises that Bellatrix would make about how unladylike it was.

Once Fenrir had been released from his brief stay behind bars, she'd immediately sought him out, not doing anything to quell the rumors that Bellatrix might have started about them. She heard the whispers some people said about her, but they rolled off of her like water. She was used to being an outsider. She didn't need a warm welcome to get by.

Her first meeting with Fenrir after learning that he'd been spying on her had been contentious. She'd immediately drawn her dagger, pressing it against his stomach and informing him that if he ever tried a stunt like that again, she wouldn't think twice about gutting him. Fenrir had laughed in her face, but made no promises not to look at her again, grabbing her wrist easily in his larger hand. Instead, he offered to teach her how to track people so she would not be likely to be caught unaware again.

Knowing that Fenrir was likely her only friend in the whole city, Hermione had reluctantly agreed.

Tom had quickly increased the number of meals that he took with her, stating that he wanted to get to know his bride better. Hermione wasn't fooled. She knew that he only wanted to keep a closer watch on her, to show her that he was the one with all the power in this situation, that he had won. Hermione had quickly begun sending her regrets with whichever servant had been sent to retrieve her, claiming illness. Then, later she would sneak off to the kitchens, taking whatever bread and fruit she could find. Once she'd even snuck off to a tavern, but found that they were not likely to serve a woman without a coin to her name.

When she was out of the King's presence, she walked around the grounds as if she owned the place. She was meant to be the King's Lady, and on those merits, there was nothing that should be keeping her out of places. Realizing that, Hermione quickly decided that the library and the records room would no longer be off limits to _her_.

She'd breezed past the Bishop Severus, slipping under his outstretched arm when he'd answered the door. She immediately walked over to the papers that he had been working on, avoiding being distracted by the shelves of parchment. Severus was charged with keeping a record of everything of import that had occured in the Kingdom of Slytherin. She sat down at the table he had been working at, staring at the parchment in front of her.

 _The Witen approved the marriage of King Tom Slytherin to a young celtic girl unanimously._ _All have praised the King for his decision, which will ease tensions in the Kingdom._

Well, Hermione thought to herself, that didn't sound very much like an accurate history at all. And why should she be remembered merely as a young celtic girl while Tom got a full description. That just wouldn't do. Grabbing a quill, Hermione ignored Severus who had plucked the inkwell away from her. "Go and get the King immediately," Severus barked to his assistant, a man about her age, who she thought belonged to Lucius.

Hermione smirked, looking down at the quill in her hand, noting that there was still ink within it. She started writing. Severus began swearing at her - quite impressive for a Bishop of his stature, really - but he didn't dare try pulling the record from her hands, knowing that it was precious and might rip. _The young celtic girl was called Hermione, daughter of Eni, ward of Ivar son of Ragnar._

She wanted to include more details about how she did not agree to the match, but her ink had run dry. Her eyes greedily read over all of the entries into the record, including one about how Ivar had died of old age. Hermione gasped, hating the injustice that Severus had done in not including the truth of what had happened.

Before she could even think about how she would like to correct it, King Tom was storming into the library, Draco hot on his heels. He took one look at her with quill in hand and immediately ordered the Bishop and his assistant out of the room. "What the Hell do you think you are doing?" he practically snarled at her.

"Just trying to make the record more accurate, my King," Hermione argued back, standing from the table, hands on her hips. "There are some details in here that are not correct. Ivar did _not_ die of old age. And I will not be remembered as some _young celtic girl_."

The King closed the distance between them, grabbing her by the chin to force her to look up at him. He was incensed, nostrils flaring in an effort to calm himself, but Hermione would not cower under his gaze. She wasn't afraid of Tom, though she knew that she probably should be. "Why do you _insist_ on being so difficult?" he ground out between clenched teeth. "Why do you insist on acting like an ungrateful _child_?"

"What reason have you given me to comply?" Hermione asked back, her neck beginning to ache from looking up at his impressive height, though he wasn't as tall as Thorfinn. "I told you, you took me away from a family that loved me."

"I grow tired of your constant animosity, Hermione," the King admonished her. "I've given you everything a Saxon girl could dream of. I've saved you from the people who took you away from your true family. Perhaps I should invite your poor, stupid Celtic father - the one who traded you away like a cow - to the wedding so that you will see that it is only _I_ who appreciates you."

Hermione pressed her eyes shut. Yes, it hurt to be reminded of how her father had given her away, but she could see now that it hadn't been so simple as it had seemed when she was a girl. And, she wasn't blind to the fact that the Rowles had appreciated her, thought of her as one of their own. Tom didn't appreciate her - Tom just wanted to use her. "I doubt my poor, stupid Celtic father would want to make the journey," she said bitterly.

"We will just have to see about that," he answered with a smirk, before bending to slant his lips over hers in an unwanted kiss. It was nothing like the sweet, lazy kisses that she shared with Thorfinn, and instead of an eruption of butterflies in her stomach, she just felt vile. When his tongue breached her lips to plunder her mouth, Hermione pressed her hands against his firm chest, pushing him away from her.

If Tom saw it as a rejection, he did not make a fuss about it. Instead, he took a step away from her, taking deep breaths to calm himself, while running a hand through his hair. He smirked at her once again. "There is a connection between the two of us," he said quietly. "I will enjoy seeing where our passion takes us."

Hermione turned away, unable to face him in that moment, her cheeks bright red in embarrassment. She did not want to consider that aspect of their relationship for even a moment. Hopefully, she would be saved long before he could press himself on her again.

Tom came to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder. "Your penmanship is something to be admired," he said softly, his hands coming to rest on her waist. "I will speak to Severus about having you help him out. It's a pity that you've made him so mad today - it will take a lot of convincing to get him to agree to let you back in here."

She spun around to look at his face. "You'll let me help here? Keep the record?" she questioned, sensing that it was just a small move to placate her.

"Well, I'm sure you can copy things. Or help Severus catalog the messages of import that we receive," he explained. "After all, you will need something to occupy your time now that I've sent that filthy Dane that you insist on spending time with away."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "What did you do to Fenrir?" she demanded, hating the idea that someone else should be hurt or injured due to her own actions. She didn't particularly like Fenrir, but she didn't think she could forgive herself if he'd been killed.

"Don't worry your pretty little head," Tom scolded, offering her his arm to lead her out of the records room. "I've just sent him to collect the food rent. But, it should occupy him for several weeks at least. Now, since you are clearly not _ill_ today, I insist that you attend lunch with me," he said imperiously, giving her a little pat on the arm.

She had no choice but to accept.

* * *

Fenrir did not appreciate being sent off by the King like some errand boy, but he did it all the same with the promise of even greater wealth than had already been promised. The King wanted to invade the lands of the Britons and annex their Kingdom now that Hermione was going to be his wife, and he promised Fenrir could lead the charge, inflicting as much bloodshed as he like, plundering their households and from their strange gods as well.

He was also pleased with the realization that the King was worried about the blossoming relationship between himself and Hermione. Fenrir wasn't stupid - he knew that Hermione would sooner kill him than fuck him, but Tom was obviously worried. Or perhaps he worried about the continued viking influence on her, and the impression that it left on his ealdormen.

Fenrir wasn't blind - it was clear that Hermione still held love for the half-viking man she'd been housed with. He wondered if the man had already sampled her. _What a disappointment that would be for the King,_ he thought with a grin.

The large Dane did wonder just what in Odin's green earth the King was thinking, sending him to a man who likely wanted the King dead, when he himself was developing a significant grudge against the King. Fenrir did not appreciate being punished at the words of a woman such as Bellatrix. He had to hand it to her - the evil woman had a way with words. Every day that he was held without food and with very little water, she would come to visit him to whisper words about his impending doom to him, about how the King planned to send him to Hell once his usefulness had run out. It had been a very eye-opening experience, even if he had no fear for their god's Hell.

So, he rode hard down South to the homestead of Earl Thorfinn, to a man who had increasingly similar interests as his. Fenrir had no loyalty to the King - just the man who could play him the biggest purse. He was beginning to think that the King no longer held the bag.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Thorfinn Rowle had snarled out at him, looking Fenrir up and down, taking in his ghoulish red smile and his long braided black hair.

"I am here officially on behalf of the King. You owe food rent," Fenrir answered, smirking at the other man. Thorfinn Rowle was of a similar size to him, and he did not usually find himself seeing eye to eye with other men. "Aren't you going to ask me how the King's betrothed is?"

"Hermione?" Thorfinn questioned, his jaw clenching down. "What about her? Is she unharmed?"

Fenrir bit his lower lip. "Oh, she is more than unharmed I would say," he said with a shrug, letting the words sink into the other man's mind. "When I left her she was looking quite lucious. How did you manage not to touch her all these years? Or have you already seen the teats that she hides under her dress?" Fenrir could clearly see that the other man was getting wound up, furious that anyone should have seen Hermione other than him. "And that arse of her's! Odin knows I wouldn't mind taking a _bite_ out of that."

Before he could think of anything else crude to say about Hermione, the blond man was tackling him flat onto his back. Thorfinn reached back to punch Fenrir, connecting with his jaw. Fenrir tasted blood on his tongue and started to laugh at how obvious these Rowles were.

The fight was, disappointingly, over before it even really got started. The _boy's_ older brother was hauling Thorfinn off of him, but Fenrir already knew enough to get him through the rest of their meeting. "Don't you _dare_ speak of Hermione again that way, _Dane_ , or I will stick a branch up your arse!"

Fenrir laughed again at the oddity of the statement, but he tipped his head to the other man for his creativity. "Never fear, your sweet Hermione, is as of yet, untouched," Fenrir said, finding his feet rather quickly. "But not if the King can help it. He plans a wedding and feast, taking place in two weeks time, at the New Moon. It was just decided, only days ago."

The brother crossed his arms over a massive chest, looking at him suspiciously. "And why are you telling us this?" he groused. "Did the _King_ ask you to invite us?"

"Of course not," Fenrir said, a smirk on his face. "But, I know that if this one-" he pointed at Thorfinn, who was just barely holding onto his temper, "reacts that way to a few bawdy jokes, then I know that there is _no way_ he intends to let that wedding go on without a little bit of bloodshed."

Thorfinn had pulled a sword faster than the blink of an eye. "And just what are you planning on doing with that information," he questioned. "Surely you know that I wouldn't allow you to live if it meant that you would thwart my plans."

Fenrir grinned once more, holding his arms open, not bothering to draw any weapon. "I don't want to thwart your plans. I want to help you," he said calmly. "This King is slowly losing his grasp on his Kingdom, when he thinks it's growing tighter. He lashes out at his friends, and I've suffered his wrath one too many times."

The two brothers looked at him warily, trying to decide if they believed him or not. "So you are no longer loyal to the King?" Eirik asked pointedly. "And you wish to help us succeed?"

"I do not wish to help you succeed. I wish to see the King usurped. Maybe they decide to put me in power," he answered with a shrug, though he knew that was probably the least likely outcome. "If I wanted to help anyone but myself, it would be Lady Hermione."

"You want to help Lady Hermione?" Thorfinn asked, sounding like he believed him even less than he had before.

Fenrir shrugged his broad shoulders. "She's very adept with a dagger. I like her," he said. Fenrir stared back at the two hard men that Earl Ivar had raised. "If you accept my assistance in your little plan to take Hogschester and kill the King, I do have one condition."

Thorfinn was already shaking his head back and forth with fury clear in his blue eyes. "No, out of the question," he practically shouted. "I won't have you touch a hair on Lady Hermione's head."

The Dane rolled his eyes at the other man's jealousy. "You really put far too much worth on your woman," he said with a smirk, before shrugging his shoulders. "Though if she came to my bed, I would not turn her away. My condition has to do with a woman close to the King called Bellatrix. All I ask is that _if_ we win, I can do whatever I wish with her."

Fenrir wasn't entirely sure what he would do with Bellatrix if he truly got his way with her. Perhaps he'd give her a taste of her own medicine, trapping her in the dark for days with no food or water until she slowly shriveled away into nothing? No, that didn't sound nearly painful enough for the likes of her.

Earl Thorfinn was walking forward then, a grim and serious look on his face. " _When_ we win the City and kill the King, I give you my word that you may do whatever you wish with Bellatrix," he said solemnly. "And I accept your offer of assistance."

The dark-haired man smiled at the boldness of the younger man, so determined to get back his woman, so certain that he would be the victor in the end. "Then, I think that we have _much_ to discuss, Earl Thorfinn," Fenrir said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, leading them towards the hall. "For I have much to tell you about Hogchester's defenses," he promised with a menacing grin, wondering what Bellatrix's blood would taste like.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad you guys enjoyed Fenrir - he's a lot of fun for me to write. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions! HUGE thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter sixteen and be on the lookout for chapter seventeen soon!

* * *

Although Thorfinn did not find that he liked Fenrir in any particular way, he could admit that the man had been a wealth of knowledge in regards to the city. The large man was a surprisingly gifted map maker, though his writing skills left a little bit to be desired. He had been traveling with the King for only a short while, but already he had memorized the guard schedules.

"You've always been planning on betraying the King, haven't you?" Thorfinn accused one day. Of course, Thorfinn had never had any interactions with the King and had no reason to feel animosity towards him, until Tom had killed his father and stolen off with Hermione. It wasn't as if he'd had some grand plan to take over all his life.

Fenrir had grinned at him, showing off his filed canines. "I've always been planning on making _wealth_ , Thorfinn Ivarson," Fenrir explained. "And I quickly learned that the King was happy to string me along for as long as possible. He is fickle as the wind, but I have never wavered."

It had given Thorfinn pause, and he reminded himself to never betray the Dane. He was glad that all he'd promised Fenrir was his leave to do whatever he wished with Bellatrix, wife of Rodolphus. Though, he didn't see himself defending the woman anyway, so it wasn't much to give up. Privately, he wondered where Fenrir's warband was lurking. A man such as him did not grow so powerful without men to back him up.

Thorfinn did not completely trust the other man. After all, Danes did not have the best track records with keeping oaths. He and Eirik decided to only share their plan to attack via the Slyth river, which snaked through the middle of the walled city. It was a plan that Fenrir thoroughly approved of, as the other man was as comfortable on ships as any vikingr.

"On the night of the wedding, I will slip down to the port and kill the guards that I find there," Fenrir offered, a gleeful look in his eyes. "And then I will wave a torch to let you know when it is safe for your ships to land."

"Will you be able to leave the feast unnoticed?" Thorfinn asked, thinking that the large man was impossible to miss. He didn't seem all that sneaky.

Fenrir grinned. "Of course, the King will probably banish me from the feast entirely. If there is one man who detests me being around your woman as much as you do, it is the King," he laughed. "And besides, the sight of a big, ugly Dane might scare the little Saxon ladies off their dinner."

"Best to wait until the feast is well underway," Eirik had added. "I am sure that most fighting men will be in attendance. The drunker they are, the better."

"The King has decreed that the feasting shall last for a week after the wedding," Fenrir explained. "So I am sure the men will be eager to drink their fill. Though I don't know if I would call them fighting men. Some of them are not even fit to fight with the children where I come from."

The two brothers made a noise of agreement, perhaps from experience with the other thegns near their lands. Each one of them could have unseated any number of lords by the time that they were ten and five.

They eagerly discussed the possibility of increased garrisons due to the contentious nature of the wedding. Fenrir shook his head. "If there is any increase, it will be nominal at best," he told them. "Tom is quite arrogant and he thinks he has all of the Witen convinced. He thinks your family too crippled to do anything of note."

The brothers were grateful to hear this, as it likely meant that the King had not heard of any of their travels across the Kingdom, to Eni and to Rabastan. Thorfinn was beginning to feel as if this was not entirely the lost clause that his mother assumed it was. They had still not been able to get her onboard with any plans, and Osthryth was quite prone to fits of weeping whenever she looked at Thorfinn, but his mother had also promised that she wouldn't do anything to sabotage them. He was sure that if the King would not immediately sentence them to death, she would have revealed the plot months ago.

Although they were not glad to have Fenrir at the homestead, they made due with the limited time he had there. After all, he was only meant to be collecting the food rent, and not to be planning an uprising, so spending more than a day would seem suspicious. On the morning of the second day, Fenrir prepared a wagon to return to the capital with food in tow.

Thorfinn could not let him go without penning a note to Hermione. Although he'd heard from Theo that she did want him to save her, he couldn't pass up an opportunity to let her know in his own words that he wouldn't rest until she was returned to him. He handed the scroll to the Dane, a grim look on his face.

"If you like Lady Hermione as you say, if you are her friend, you will deliver this to her," he instructed, parting with the parchment reluctantly. "It is for her eyes and her eyes alone."

Fenrir smirked back at him, pulling the parchment out of his tight grasp. "Aye, Earl Thorfinn. I will deliver your love note to your woman," he said with a roll of his eyes. "And you have my word, my eyes won't read it's words. Odin knows I don't want to read the sap you've sent her."

Thorfinn watched the man ride away then, hoping that he'd made the right choice, putting his faith in Fenrir Greyback.

* * *

Hermione sighed as she stretched her back over the uncomfortable back of the chair. Her fingers ached something fierce, and her eyes were watering. It seemed that Bishop Severus was determined to make her time in the library as miserable as possible, for he was having her copy lists of punishments that the nun's at the nearby Abbey had received. Why this was worthy of record was beyond Hermione, but she was glad that she did not have to endure them. Though, she was sure that Severus would have been delighted to punish her in his own ways. It was clear that he had still not forgiven her for her earlier stunts.

He _was_ slowly beginning to see the utility of having her hand, though. Her penmanship was exceedingly neat and legible, and she was quite good at reproductions. Her math skills were an improvement on those that belonged to Draco, his assistant. She had already had to make several corrections, much to her blond counterpart's annoyance. Bishop Severus had even nearly praised her one time, though he'd caught himself before he did.

While Hermione was grateful to finally be allowed amongst the scrolls of the library, that did not mean that she had forgiven Tom for what he'd done. If he thought she could be bought by rote labor, he clearly did not know her at all. She doubted she'd ever be able to forget that he'd killed her father figure, or able to forgive him. It was not productive to hold onto grudges, no, but he'd done something far worse than a petty hurt.

When she closed her eyes, she still remembered the press of his lips on hers, invading her mouth forcefully, just as he'd invaded her life...the thought that she might have to lie with Ivar's killer for the rest of her life was enough to make the bile churn in her stomach.

It was worse having to deal with the smug way that Tom was treating the situation, thinking that he'd won, despite her repeated promises that she would never willingly marry him. For now, Hermione would let him think he'd won. All the while, she was planning on what to do should things go wrong, and Thorfinn wasn't able to help her. After all, she wasn't going to be reliant on a man to save her when it all came down to it. She had several ideas, but she prayed that she didn't have to use any of them.

On the way to one of her now nightly dinners with the King, Hermione was surprised to bump into Fenrir crossing the courtyard. The Dane sneered at her, and had none of the friendly quips that he typically did. Initially she feared that the King had been successful in turning one of her only tentative allies against her. But then she felt the press of parchment into her hand. "Watch where you are going woman!" he'd nearly shouted, startling the other occupants of the courtyard.

Hermione's heart beat wildly against her chest, as she shoved the parchment up her sleeve, wondering what it was. She didn't deign Fenrir with a response, instead hurrying off to dinner, all the while her curiosity overwhelming her to know what was in the note. Throughout the meal, she could barely manage to shuffle her food around the plate, wondering what was written. She would never dare to read it anywhere but the privacy of her own chambers.

Upon being dismissed, Hermione practically ran back to the safety of her room, ripping the scrap from her sleeve, unfolding it. There, in plain ink, the scratchy penmanship of Thorfinn was revealed to her. She felt tears spring to her eyes as she greedily read every word.

 _My Dearest Hermione,_

 _I do not know how I ever thought that I could live without your presence. Every day seems dull and grey without the rays of your affection in my life. Your voice, your touch, your smile haunts every one of my dreams, leaving me filled with hope of what we might one day have. I long for the day that we are reunited once more so that I might tell you to your face, just how much you mean to me. I have not been nearly honest enough with you._

 _The Kingdom has heard of your pending nuptials to King Tom. I sit here knowing that you cannot possibly wish for a fate such as that, as I know how dearly your regarded my father. Never fear - I will not allow such a fate to befall you. I promise you this: I will come rescue you before that day occurs. I am coming for you, my love. Never lose hope._

 _Yours,_

 _Thorfinn_

She could feel tears running down her cheeks at Thorfinn's words, her eyes lingering over the phrase _my love_. There was so much between them that still needed to be discussed, and she prayed that they would get the opportunity. They had been in such a period of turmoil when Tom had snatched her away, but she couldn't deny that she still loved Thorfinn. Now, she wasn't sure if she was going to be able to let him go.

Frowning, she knew that she couldn't keep the letter, and read it several more times, hoping to commit every word to memory. Then, she threw it into the fire, watching every letter burn away into ash.

Hermione was struck by an idea. Even if she couldn't keep the letter that did not mean that she couldn't do something for Thorfinn. Determined, she resolved to steal parchment and quill from the library the following day. Then, she would just have to convince Fenrir to smuggle her message out of Hogschester. She hoped that his cooperation with Thorfinn meant that he would do the same for her. But she would never know until she asked.

* * *

As the days before the King's wedding grew smaller and smaller, Thorfinn grew more and more antsy. He'd already called the Granger's, Rabastan, Leoflaed and Theo to his homestead to make final preparations for their attack. Eirik would meet them on the day of the wedding, as he would be leading a fleet of fast ships up the Slyth, hopefully using Fenrir's allegiance to their advantage.

The Grangers had come bearing news of their own. "The King has invited us to the wedding," Eni explained. "It is the first time our people have been invited to a royal function. I thought they normally liked to keep us out of sight, out of mind."

Thorfinn winced. "The King is likely trying to manipulate Hermione into compliance. He is hoping to stoke any resentment she might have for my late father, who took her away from you," he explained. "He was very fond of calling her a hostage, rather than a fosterling."

"If what you tell us of Hermione is true, it won't work on her," the brother called Ario said sheepishly. Thorfinn knew that he had probably struck a nerve when he'd revealed that Hermione felt replaced by her younger siblings. "I doubt she will be happy to see us."

The blond shook his head at the twin men. "No, I think that she will be more than happy to meet her own flesh and blood," he answered honestly, wondering what Hermione would make of the two boys. They shared so many similar qualities, though her brothers seemed more overtly wild and dangerous.

"We can use this to our advantage," the one called Aesu piped up. "Ario and I can take care of any guards they have stationed at the perimeter."

"And you and your warband can just walk in," Ario added with a deadly grin, crossing his arms over his chest triumphantly.

Thorfinn nodded, thinking that it would be useful to have another trustworthy group inside the City's walls. They were counting on Rabastan and the rest of his men turning coat when the fighting broke out, capitalizing on the element of surprise. Initially they had planned on having Theo's men work to get them inside the walls, but there was always the chance that the King would have put protections against that in place. Leoflaed was the child of Ivar just as much as Thorfinn, and surely he would know that she might have some lingering grudge against him.

"It would be a good to have a backup plan," Thorfinn agreed. "We have no idea how close an eye the King will keep on Theo. Just make sure that you aren't noticed."

"We are twins," the young men chorused with toothy grins. "If one of us slips away for a moment, I am sure that they won't be able to tell the difference," Ario completed the thought.

The blond laughed, thinking that it was true. He was sure that most members of the King's court would be too terrified by the sight of their blue woad tattoos to make any observations about the differences. Staring would be frowned upon, certainly. Feeling confident in their plan, they planned on leaving in the early morning light.

Thorfinn left Hermione's family alone in the hall, walking outside to watch the setting sun. He wondered if this would be the last time he saw his home, if the following day he would be dead, cut down fighting for something he believed in. It was enough to have a lump forming in his throat, but he knew that he wouldn't have it any other way. If Woden willed it, he would return, hopefully with Hermione for his bride.

Just then, some movement on the tree line caught his attention. It was a rider, coming towards the homestead. Thorfinn walked forward, hand resting on his pommel warily, only to realize it was another Dane. The man dismounted when he finally closed the gap, holding out a piece of parchment. "Jarl Fenrir sent me to deliver this to you, Jarl Thorfinn," he said, tipping his head. "Said it's from your woman."

Taking the paper cautiously, Thorfinn tried not to let the hope that Hermione had written back to him get the better of him. Instead, he scolded the man. "Speak to no one of this, or I will hunt you down and kill you," he warned sternly.

The rider simply mounted his horse and smirked at the Northman. "I already heard it from Fenrir. And I'm more afraid of him than I am of you," he dismissed, before riding back away.

Thorfinn hurried back to the homestead, eager to read the contents of the letter by himself. Instead of returning to the hall and his mother's sad eyes, Thorfinn slipped into the barn where he'd had many a pleasant tumble with Hermione, unfolding the parchment.

 _My Dearest Thorfinn,_

 _Your letter has brought me such joy that I fear my improved mood shall make the King suspicious. I had been feeling exceedingly hopeless about my situation until I learned of your planned rescue. Know this - should you save me from the King's plans, I will be forever grateful. You are correct that I cannot bare the thought of marrying someone who killed a man whom I saw as a father._

 _My head will be filled with dreams of the day that we are reunited. I long to hold you again, and I am sure that there is much to discuss between us. However, do not worry too much on my safety. Should all else fail, you can be positive that I will not submit so easily to the King's wishes._

 _May Woden bless you, Thorfinn._

 _Hermione_

He smiled down at the letter in his hand, grateful that she has received his letter at all. And to see that she called him her _dearest Thorfinn_ made him positive that she was willing to give him a second chance. Now, all he had to deal with was the man that was keeping them apart. Bolstered by her words, he decided that he would keep the letter with him, in his armor, as a favor, when he rode into the city the next day.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! This chapter has a sneaky little surprise in it, so I hope that you enjoy what's coming! You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Huge thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought about chapter seventeen and be on the lookout for chapter eighteen soon!

* * *

She wasn't entirely sure if it was working, but Hermione had attempted to lull Tom into a false sense of security. She had dutifully copied everything Bishop Severus had requested, until her fingers ached and were stained with ink. Bellatrix had complained about how difficult it would be to remove in time for the wedding, so Hermione had nearly scrubbed them raw herself.

At every meal she attended with the King, she no longer chose to argue with him, instead preferring to sit in silence, unless she was questioned. She was sure he wasn't fooled into thinking that she had converted to some sort of docile creature, but she hoped that he simply thought she was resigned to her fate. This seemed to irk the man, who repeatedly told her how much he enjoyed her passionate behavior - within reason.

Hermione had even thanked the King for providing her with such a beautiful green and white over dress for the wedding, saying she was pleased that it would match his own tunic, a surprise the tailor had let slip while she was being fitted. _That_ had truly seemed to shock the King, but he did not say anything other than to tell her that he was eager to see her in the dress.

Before Hermione knew it, the day of the wedding had arrived. While she believed that Thorfinn was doing everything that he could to get to her, each subsequent day that passed made her feel more and more nervous that her hoping and wishing was all for naught. Of course, there were forces outside of Thorfinn's control that might prevent him from rescuing her. She knew that she had to face the fact that she might be married to the King by sundown.

But, she wouldn't sit around waiting if it seemed like Thorfinn wouldn't come. She didn't need to rely on a man to save her.

She joined Tom for breakfast on the day of the wedding. He passed her a bag of coins, for her morning gift. "A chest is being delivered to your rooms, as well, but I wanted to give you this as a token," Tom explained. She was sure that the morning gift he provided for her was nominal at best, knowing that he wouldn't appreciate her independence from him in the slightest.

Still, Hermione accepted it humbly. "Thank you, my King," she said, putting the bag in her pocket for later. "I confess that I am not as familiar as I should be with all the Saxon wedding customs. Lady Osthryth did not think it would ever be something I needed."

Tom nodded. "A bunch of ritual, but never fear, I will be there to guide you along the way," he answered her sweetly. Or, it would be sweet if she didn't know the man who lay hidden behind his mask. "Are you excited to meet with your family today?" he questioned.

It had been a week prior that he'd told her that her two brothers and father would attend her wedding, and Hermione wasn't entirely sure what to think of it. Of course she wished that she had never been parted from her father's home when she was younger, sometimes. But, so much time had passed and now Hermione barely remembered what he looked like. She _was_ eager to see him once again, and she hoped that he would be proud of her.

She was nervous to meet the two brothers she'd never met. She didn't even know what their names were. She wondered if her mother and father had told them about what she had been like, or if she was just as much a stranger to them. It would be an unusual experience no doubt.

"I am glad that they will be here to witness my marriage," Hermione said cautiously, drawing her eyebrows together. "However, I must confess that I am nervous to meet them. So much time has passed and I hope that I live up to their expectations."

"How could you not, Hermione?" Tom questioned her. "You are accomplished...you are marrying the King! There is no higher station for you, my Lady."

Hermione had to bite her tongue so that she didn't snap to answer back that she could be Queen. These Saxon men were far too suspicious to allow a woman the title of Queen, and she doubted more that they would even follow her. She gave him a tight smile, but did not acknowledge his comment. She hoped that there was to be more to her life than being married to _him_. "Will one of my kinsmen be presenting me, my King?" she questioned.

"I am sure that your two brothers are vying for the opportunity to present you as we speak, my darling," he said with a teasing smile. "Now, since you are without a complete knowledge of Saxon customs, as you said earlier, I know that you will need help with the ritual bathing. I hope that you don't mind, but I've taken the liberty of requesting that Lady Leoflaed assist you."

 _That_ certainly got her attention. "Leoflaed? Really?" Hermione asked, her face lighting up at the prospect of seeing her oldest friend once again.

"Yes, you will find her waiting for you down at the stream. She was very excited to prepare a wedding crown for you," he explained. "I am sure you do not need any assistance finding your way to the stream?" he teased, knowing that she continued her daily bathing ritual, as Bellatrix frequently complained about it loudly, even though she was not made to attend Hermione any longer.

Hermione bit her lip, unsure of how she could proceed with Tom. "Thank you so much, my King. You have no idea how much I have missed Lady Leoflaed," Hermione said, honestly, trying to be as genuine as possible. "May I please be excused from breakfast?" she asked, knowing that she wouldn't be able to stand another moment in the man's company when her friend was so close.

Tom pressed a firm kiss to her lips, one that Hermione tried not to recoil from. "Yes, go and see your friend. The next time I see you, we will be wed," he promised, a selfishness reflected in his dark blue eyes.

Once she was out of the King's presence, Hermione practically skipped down to the stream where she typically bathed. When she made it to the banks, Leoflaed turned to greet her, the two girls wrapping each other in tight hugs. "Leoflaed, it is so wonderful to see you," Hermione laughed, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in a long while. "Theo said that you might be with child, is that true?"

Leoflaed nodded, a shy smile on her face. "I believe so - it's been several moons since I last bled, but it is still early days."

"And if it is a son, you shall call him Ivar," Hermione said sadly, wrapping her friend in her arms once more. "You must understand how sorry I am Leoflaed. I never knew any of this would have happened. I wish I never would have set eyes on King Tom. Or...perhaps that he had not set eyes on me," she whispered, unable to meet Leoflaed's eyes.

Her friend wiped away the tears that were forming on her cheeks. "Never blame yourself for this, Hermione," Leoflaed said softly. "My father would not hold you guilty, so I do not either. But enough of this sad talk. Someone is here who wishes to speak with you."

Hermione looked around confused. "Who?" she questioned, seeing no one else in the bathing area besides Leoflaed. Others would be kept well away, knowing it was bad luck for the bride to be disturbed by anyone except her attendant.

Leoflaed gave her a secret smile. "Go and get in the water for your bath, and I will be waiting on the shore, just behind those trees to dress you when you are finished," she instructed. "Go now, because I will not give you more than an hour."

Stripping out of her clothes, Hermione left them on the banks before cautiously walking into the cold water, looking left and right. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest in anticipation of who the person could be, knowing that there was only one person she wanted to see.

"Thorfinn!" the name was ripped from her lips as soon as she saw the brawny man wadding up the stream towards her coming around the bend. She ran towards him, not caring that she was naked or that the rocks might cut her feet, needing only to be reunited with him.

He grabbed her, pressing his hands around her small waist to lift her up, immediately kissing her as though his life depended on it. Hermione wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, fingers tangling in his long blond locks, wanting to pull him as close to her body as she could.

Though he'd lifted her as though she were light as air, he set her down far too soon, breaking their frenetic kiss, making Hermione groan in disappointment. She didn't make any move to release him, not even when she felt his body's obvious response to her nearness, instead letting her fingers trail down the firm muscle of his chest, covered in course blond hair. Despite their frequent meetings in the barn, Hermione had never seen him completely unclothed. He certainly had the body of a warrior, even if he was largely untested by battle.

Seeing the heat reflected in his blue eyes, Hermione felt her eyelids flutter shut, suddenly feeling rather breathless. "Thorfinn," she sighed, resting her head against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. "I've scarcely longed to see someone as much as you," she told him honestly.

"Nor I you," Thorfinn said, his voice rumbling in her ear. "You've only grown lovelier in the time we've been apart. It pleases me to see you are well treated, at least," he sighed, tilting her head up gently to look over his face. His other hand traced down her arm, sending shivers up and down her spine.

"How is it that you are here?" Hermione asked, feeling overwhelmed by his presence. "Are you just some cruel trick or illusion that my mind has conjured?" She had been dreaming of this moment for so long that she worried she would be woken up by the crowing rooster in not too long.

Thorfinn groaned, pressing himself more fully against her. "I promise you that I am very much here," he answered. "I had to swim up the stream, under the bridge, to get past the city walls. It was...strenuous." It had been a bit of a fool's errand to attempt, especially so close to battle, but Thorfinn knew that he couldn't allow himself to die without seeing Hermione one last time. Besides, he had always been a strong swimmer.

Hermione looked worried, before pressing a kiss to the middle of his chest, right next to his heart. "That must have been so dangerous," she whispered. "What if someone had seen you?"

"Luckily most people seem too caught up in preparations for today. They didn't even notice," he answered. Honestly, the city's defenses were largely dismal, but he supposed that there had been no rumors of Danish attacks recently, so perhaps they had been less cautious. Still, Thorfinn would have expected more on the day of the King's wedding.

She surged forward, kissing him once more, wrapping her arms around his neck. She opened her mouth to him, letting his tongue slide against her's in a wanton embrace. Using the running water to her advantage, she eagerly wrapped her legs around his waist, holding onto him. Immediately, his hands came to lift her by her arse, the two groaning together when her center came to press against his hard length.

It was by far the closest the two of them had ever gotten with one another and Hermione was feeling drunk with desire. Rocking against him gently, she didn't think that anything could feel as good as she did in this moment. He broke away from the kiss, pressing kisses down her neck, making her entire body clench from the feeling.

But then, he was stopping, with a groan, and setting her back down into the stream. "What? Why are you stopping?" she questioned, her mind still spinning with need. Her body was full of a physical ache, and she was positive that Thorfinn would know how to release it.

He looked at her as if he wanted nothing more than to continue, as if he felt the ache just as keenly as she did. "I can't. Not...yet," he told her, gritting his teeth. She wondered what kind of odd promise he'd made to himself that he was trying to keep it now. "I love you," he pledged to her."

Hermione felt as if her heart stopped, the words filling her with joy. "I love you, too," she answered honestly. Of course, Thorfinn wasn't perfect, but she couldn't deny that she'd never stopped loving him. And knowing how far he'd come to help her, that he put his own life at risk for her, had only made her feelings stronger. "So, why don't you continue? I couldn't bare it if the King was the man who took my virginity," she revealed, looking away from him. It was something that had consumed her thoughts as of late. Tears sprung in her eyes and she felt a knot form in her throat, making her stumble over her words. "I'd rather it be with someone who I love, and who loves me in turn."

He smiled at her. "I won't let it come to that, Hermione, I promise," he told her, pressing another sweet kiss to her lips. "I _will_ kill King Tom first."

She frowned. "Why can't you just take me with you now? I can swim just as well as you. Why must we go through with the farce of a wedding at all?" she was practically begging, just wanting to be out of Tom's clutches.

"It's not enough to steal you away from him, Hermione," Thorfinn said sounding sadly. "If I were to take you now, he would come after us, and we'd never find any rest. Not only that, but I need vengeance for my father first. I cannot let his murderer go free. I might not live past today, and it would not be right to take from you when I cannot provide for you after."

She pressed her face into his chest once more, feeling his arms wrap around her tightly. Although it was not the answer that she had wanted to hear, she was impressed with this new, mature Thorfinn. He was not thinking of his wants and needs alone, but also of his family's, and her reputation. He was no longer just a spoiled boy going after what he wanted at all costs. This was an Earl, with people who counted on him, doing what was right.

Pressing her eyes closed, his heartbeat was a steady drum against her ear, making her feel calm. It was only then that she realized her heartbeat had slowed to meet his. Hoping that this was a sign from Woden himself, Hermione decided that she would trust in Thorfinn's promise to protect her.

Thorfinn ran his fingers through her wet curls, encouraging her to look up at him once again. "Know this, Hermione. You have more people on your side than you know of. Trust in me and soon this will all be a terrible dream, left firmly in the past," he gave her a serious smile. "And I can work on proving myself to you." He pressed one final kiss to her lips, trying to pour in every ounce of emotion he felt for her. "I have to go now, but remember that I love you."

Before she could answer, he was turning and diving away, swimming quickly back down stream, revealing the full length of his tall body to her. She blushed at the sight and had to force herself not to follow him into the current. She could only imagine what would happen to Leoflaed should she escape while under the girl's watchful eye. Surely, that is what the King had been counting on.

Grabbing the soap - a present to Tom from some Frankish traders - Hermione quickly scrubbed herself clean, before stepping out of the water. Leoflaed was coming out from around the tree line then, helping her to dry off, before pulling her shift over her head. "You look flushed, Hermione," Leoflaed teased, as lightly as she could.

"Let us hope that the King imagines his bride is blushing solely for him," Hermione responded, with a smirk of her own. But then, all the humor was leaving her body, all manner of fears slipping back in. "Is everything going to be okay today?" she asked her sister in all but name.

Leoflaed let out a breath. "I am praying to every god that will listen that it is," she answered honestly. Hermione wondered just how deeply involved Leoflaed and Theo had found themselves in Thorfinn's plot, but she didn't dare ask, knowing that it would be admitting to treason. Hopefully there would be a time for explanations later.

When the green overdress was pulled over her head, Hermione could admit that the fabric was far more luxurious than anything she'd ever imagined owning, but she got no pleasure from it, knowing what it stood for. Instead, she took comfort from Leoflaed's patient brushing of her wild hair, reminded of her first nights with the Rowles, and how they'd always cared for her, treating her so gently.

The last thing she did was replace her dagger to her leg, knowing that today of all days was not a day to be without her weapon. The Rowles had always cared for her, yes, but she knew it was ultimately up to her to protect herself.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad you liked the little taste from last chapter! You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Huge thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter eighteen and be on the lookout for chapter nineteen soon!

* * *

Hermione had been told that she looked beautiful more than a dozen times at this point, but it did nothing to quell the nauseous feeling in her stomach. She was growing more and more positive that she was going to be sick on the King, the closer the hour got to the ceremony.

Every little noise was making her jump, hoping that it was Thorfinn coming with his forces to save her from the fate that she was facing. At least Bellatrix didn't think that it was anything unusual for her to be so nervous on her wedding day. "You look pale," the other woman sneered at her. "You should pinch your cheeks to get some color in them. We don't want the common people to think that the King is marrying an invalid."

However, Hermione highly doubted that the common people thought anything of her at all. There was no grand procession to the wooden church, and she'd been hidden away for so long that she doubted they would know she was the reason for their extra bread and ale, even if she was the one handing it out.

It was in the vestibule of the church that Hermione finally came face to face with the two brothers she'd never met before. Tom was speaking with Bishop Severus, trying to work through any last minute preparations for the wedding, and so it was up to Rodolphus to introduce them to one another. Seeing them, in all their tattooed glory, was like a punch to the gut for Hermione.

"Hermione," the pair of them breathed out, before pulling her into a tight hug, as though they had no question of who she was or just how much she meant to them.

She melted into their embraces, her mind swirling with memories of what her mother and father had looked like and seeing them - herself - reflected in the twin boys. She saw a different path her life could have taken, where she might have been as wild and strong as them. Her heart ached, wondering if it would have been a better fate for her. She felt tears in her eyes once more, overly-emotional from the strain of the day, and wondered if she would always be this weepy. "I don't even know your names," she admitted, choking on the lump in her throat. Once she'd learned that her parents had children after her, she hadn't been interested in learning any more about them.

"Aesu," one of her brothers answered, before pressing a hand to his twins chest. "And this is Ario."

She gave them a tentative smile. "I feel as though I've known you all my life," she told them, feeling utterly connected to the pair, before looking around for her father. She was overcome with how homesick she felt. "Where is our father?"

"He is waiting inside the chapel already. He is growing older now, and the journey was difficult," Ario responded, reaching out to fix the flower crown Leoflaed had woven for her. "Our mother, and our youngest sister, Diseta, both wished that they could attend, but someone needed to protect the homestead."

Hermione felt dizzy with the knowledge that she was suddenly so close to the family that she hadn't seen for over a decade. She sniffled slightly, thinking how much she would have wanted her mother to hold her this day. "I would so like to see them again."

"Perhaps you could travel to visit us sometime," Ario offered. "We would love to host a Lady of your stature. And Diseta would love to meet you - you look so similar, yet so different," he said, studying her face for little similarities that he could find.

"Yes, I bet it's been many years since the King's retinue has made it to our home," she said, stumbling over the words. She wasn't planning on joining the King's retinue if she could help it. Shaking those negative thoughts out of her mind, Hermione tried to think positively. Thorfinn was coming for her, and once they were free of King Tom, she was certain he would not prevent her from visiting her family.

"Alright, enough talk," Rodolphus sneered, breaking up the family reunion. Obviously, he wasn't looking forward to visiting the far western reaches of the Kingdom. "It's time to go in."

Instead of one of her brothers waiting with her, they each took one of her arms, boxing her in between their taller forms. Hermione felt as though they were giving her the strength to move forward, to her horrid fate.

She was surprised by how many Lords and Ladies had stuffed themselves into the chapel, probably there to get a look at the wild Briton who had captured the King's heart. _If only they knew_ , Hermione thought to herself, keeping her face solemn and not gloomy. Her father stood out amongst the crowd, with his brightly painted body, looking out of place in all the finery, but being a most welcome sight to her eyes.

The King was waiting with Bishop Severus, and he happily received her from her brothers, with a firm handshake to each. Hermione stared at her groom, remembering how handsome he'd seemed the first night she'd met him. She had felt as if she had been dreaming when he'd spoken to her. While nothing had changed about his handsome face, Hermione knew that she would never be able to see him in the same light, now that she knew his true nature.

Tom rewarded her with a blinding smile, eagerly resting her hand on top of his. The wedding was an odd amalgam of Saxon traditions and the new Christian god that recently invaded their lands. Their hands were still tied together for the duration of the rite, but Hermione was left in the dark for most of the ceremony. Bishop Severus spoke enthusiastically about mercy and righteousness, fire and brimstone, how man and woman were created for one another. None of it really meant anything to her, but she spoke when she was directed, parroting back the words that Severus fed her, treating her like a stupid child.

She noticed that there was no attempt to include any part of her Celtic heritage into the wedding, nor any of Tom's, not that she remembered any of the traditions of her tribe. She had not forgotten the story that Tom had told her, of how he'd been born of an Icini princess. Did he not wish to advertise that part of himself to his subjects, fearing they would find him as odd as they did her? Or was it out of some loyalty to King Salazar, who had fostered him?

By the time the wedding was complete, they turned to face the crowd, sealing their union with a kiss. She endured the moment, even if it made her skin crawl. "Smile, my Lady," Tom chided her through a smile. "You are now the Lady of these Kingdoms, and you have more power than you know. You shouldn't look so glum."

"Yes, my King," she answered, trying to force a smile onto her face. "If it pleases you, I would like to see my father. I have not spoken to him in many years," she asked.

Tom seemed pleased that she wanted to reconnect with Eni, and she wondered if he saw it as a rejection of the Rowles, only represented at the wedding by Leoflaed. "Of course, my darling. Shall we go and speak to him together?"

Hermione had not wanted to share such a special moment with Tom, but nodded anyway. Even if she couldn't be free from her new husband, that did not mean that she would pass the opportunity to see her father.

She felt breathless when she finally came face to face with Eni. It was true that she had felt resentment for him when she was younger, but now she was just glad to have him there to ground her. "My daughter," he said, smiling proudly when she approached. He cupped her cheeks gently, getting a look at her. "You look beautiful. You are every bit the woman I wished you would grow up to be."

Hermione colored at his praise, feeling rather like a disappointment. She was nothing like her two brothers, but she felt rather like a Saxon imposter. How could he be proud of her when there was so little of the fierce Brigante left in her? "I feel so odd," she confessed, refusing to meet Tom's gaze at her words. "I feel out of place. As though I've lived a life not meant for me."

Eni was shaking his head now. "No, Hermione. You have forged your own path," he answered. "And you have achieved more than I could have ever given you." Despite the cryptic nature of his words, Hermione took comfort from them, thinking of all the good things life had given her. She never could have remained angry with her father, not when he had given her the Rowles, knowledge and the drive to always push for more. To prove herself.

Tom was clearly uncomfortable with where the conversation was going, giving her hand a squeeze. "Come, Hermione, the feasting cannot begin until we arrive at the hall," he said with a smile, one could see was false.

Hermione nodded, giving her father a hopeful smile. "Can I count on you for a dance later, during the feast?" she questioned. Eni nodded in agreement.

Leading her out of the church and into the main hall, Tom was quick to admonish her. "Really, Hermione, you don't look nearly happy enough to be married to the King," he tisked. "Think of all the power you have now - you can order Bellatrix around and she will be compelled to listen. If you just worked with me, think of how we could run this whole Kingdom. You could have anything you want."

"You can never give me what I want," Hermione reminded him. "I told you that I could never be happy with you, because you killed Ivar. I am not just going to forget that."

"Oh, spare me. I've made the world a better place now that I've killed the man who took you hostage. You are just too blind or too _stupid_ to see it," he snarled at her. "There was a time when I thought the same way about Salazar, but I was eventually able to open my eyes. Then I took control of my own life, just like I did with Ivar. Soon, you will come around to my way of thinking."

Hermione felt as though she had been slapped in the face. Had Tom just confessed to killing the previous King to her? She, like so many in the Kingdom had thought that he'd just died of old age. "I wouldn't count on it, my King," she answered evenly, though she knew that she was beginning to push her luck with the irate man.

"Don't look so glum," he said, just as they were able to enter the feasting hall. "I've given you a life that you never could have dreamed of. You were nothing more than a dirty little hostage when I met you, and now you are the Lady of Slytherin. Remember, your usefulness to me ends with an heir. If you don't cooperate with me, you just might find yourself shipped off to some nunnery. Or worse."

She put a polite smile on her face, or as polite a smile as she could manage after her new husband plainly told her of his plan to kill her once she'd given him a son. It wasn't entirely shocking from what she'd learned about the young King over the past weeks, but she was surprised that he hadn't even waited until the wedding feast was over to inform her. Surely, it was considered bad luck to threaten your wife on your wedding day?

It didn't matter, though. Hermione was not planning on giving Tom any children. And, if everything went as Thorfinn had promised, Tom would be dead before the evening was up.

They sat next to one another at the feast, though Tom was very engrossed in discussions with Rodolphus and his brother Rabastan about some land dispute to the North. Hermione was stuck listening to Daphne Greengrass chatter away about how lovely she had looked. Really, the girl was quite sweet, but Hermione had no energy to talk about her dress or her flower crown at the moment.

She wished that the King would have seen fit to sit her with her father and brothers, or even Leoflaed and Theo. To her dismay, she couldn't even find them in the Hall, it was packed with so many people. It would have been nice to talk more with her family, especially since it had been so long since she'd seen her father, but she was determined to dance with them all later in the night.

The eating went on for several hours and Hermione was sure she was going to burst by the end of it. Eventually, with dusk setting on the City, tables were pushed away to make room for dancing, and Hermione was happy to stand up. Rabastan, Rodolphus's younger brother, asked her to dance first. Dutifully, she asked for Tom's permission, but he merely waved her away to speak more with Rodolphus.

Hermione did not know Rabastan well, but he was quite witty and smart, nothing like his rude older brother. He lovingly told her about his wife, Luna, who was at home, having just given birth to his first child, a daughter. "It would be such an honor to name her after the King's new Lady," he said, looking a bit flushed.

"Oh, I don't know what to say," she stammered. Hermione was completely taken aback, having never met Luna or Rabastan prior to this day. The idea that they should want to name their child after her was completely surprising, but she supposed it was likely nothing more than an attempt to get favor from the King. "I suppose - the honor would be mine, Rabastan," she gave the man her blessing.

Their dance ended quickly after that, and Hermione quickly found her brother - the one called Aseu - and requested that he dance with her. She spent the whole dance studying his face, finding it odd to see someone who was so similar to herself. He was taller than her, but certainly not tall for a man. Lean and wiry, she was fascinated with the way that the bright blue of his tattoos stood out against the pale white of his skin. Her own tattoo had faded over the years, and she wondered what Tom would think if she had it reapplied. He had already told her that he used her celticness to make his Anglo-Saxon court uncomfortable.

Aseu spent the majority of the dance telling her about their homestead, and about how her father had begun talks with their old tribe, doing a lot of trade. It was nice to hear about what they were up to, and made her feel more connected. Their dance ended far too soon, and she instructed Aseu to send Ario her way once he found him. Despite her family standing out so much, she couldn't find them for the life of her.

Tom, perhaps shamed into it by Rodolphus, asked to dance with her next. "Were you told off for neglecting your wife?" she teased him, knowing how much he detested being told what to do. Looking back at their table, she could see Rodolphus watching them with those hawkish eyes of his, completely ignoring whatever it was Bellatrix was babbling to him about.

"Very funny, Hermione," he chided her. "It's good to see that you still have a sense of humor under all your hatred of me."

They spent the rest of the dance in stilted silence, sharing none of the chemistry that they had at Leoflaed's wedding. Hermione had thought she would like nothing more than to spend the rest of her life wrapped up in Tom's warm embrace, dancing the night away. Now, she knew better. When the dance was over, he didn't release her. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from saying anything, trying not to purposely antagonize the man.

By the end of the second song, one of her brothers was tapping Tom on the shoulder. "May I have the next dance, King Tom?" the teenager asked, with none of the deference of the other Saxon ealdormen.

Tom smiled tightly. "By all means..." he trailed off, searching for her brother's name.

"Ario," her brother offered with a broad smile, before sweeping Hermione into his arms.

She searched his face, narrowing her eyes at him as realization dawned on her. "You aren't Ario. Why did you lie about which twin you were, Aseu?" she asked, looking around the room.

"Don't be silly Hermione," he scolded her. "I'm Ario, not Aseu."

Hermione shook her head more firmly, not willing to believe the lie. "Don't lie to me, I'm your sister. Just because I've only met you today doesn't mean that I can't see the differences between you and Ario," she answered, looking around the room much harder. "And where exactly _is_ Ario? And father?" she demanded.

Aseu smiled at her. "Thorfinn told us how smart you are, but I must say I am impressed," he complimented her, before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Don't worry about anything, but keep your wits about you. There could be a bit of a commotion."

Before she could respond to him, he was releasing her, and slipping back deftly through the crowd. Hermione felt dread sink into her stomach and she wondered just what he'd meant. He said Thorfinn - was it possible that her family was on Thorfinn's side? Tom had thought he was so smart, bringing her father and brothers to the capital, but it seemed now that he'd made a massive miscalculation.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I can't believe how close we are coming to the end. We've got a few chapters of some serious action coming up! You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions! Huge thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter nineteen and be on the lookout for chapter twenty soon!

* * *

After Aseu had drifted off into the crowd, Hermione found herself surrounded by dozens of merry revelers, none of whom she actually knew. She was suddenly struck by how utterly alone she really was in this new world. As she focused on each of their faces, the music and loud voices faded away to a dull buzz, while she tried to get a grasp on the situation.

Something was going to happen, and soon, that much was assured. Even if her brother hadn't warned her, her body was suddenly filled with a sense of anticipation that kept her utterly on edge. She turned to look at Tom, who was laughing at something Rodolphus said, and realized that he had no idea what was about to happen. Her family was in on it and he'd had no idea, so as she looked around, she wondered just who else was on her side as well.

Had Rabastan's peculiar question earlier meant that he was fighting with Thorfinn? The idea seemed preposterous, knowing who his brother was, but it was so out of the ordinary she couldn't help but question it. Fenrir, her unlikely ally at the capital, could be as well, as he'd delivered her Thorfinn's note and gotten one back to him. She remembered their conversation long ago, where he told her he only was on Tom's side so long as it was profitable to him. She knew this could mean that Thorfinn was no longer profitable either.

Leoflaed was obviously on her side, having helped her see Thorfinn before the wedding, but was Theo involved in the planning as well? With a start, she spun around the room, looking for any sign of Theo or Leoflaed and finding them nowhere. It was only then that Hermione realized she hadn't actually seen them since the ceremony. Fear gripped her when she thought of her friend and her pregnancy, knowing that she would only get the information she wanted from one place.

She made her way over to her husband, grabbing an ale of horn on the way. She gave Tom a false smile, knowing that she was being watched, before offering the drink to him. "Husband, I noticed that your drink was empty," she said sweetly.

Tom, who appeared to be into his cups, took the horn, drinking deeply. "Thank you wife," he said, pressing his arm around her shoulders, guiding her away from Rodolphus and his big ears. "I must say, just then you almost fooled me into thinking that you didn't entirely loath me. You are improving. Perhaps in a few years the charade will even become reality."

Hermione swallowed thickly to stop from snapping back to that statement, knowing that it wouldn't be good to purposefully antagonize him when she needed information about Leoflaed. "Perhaps it shall, Tom," she said, keeping her voice steady and even.

Tom just rolled his eyes at her. "Well, tell me just what it is that you wanted...it must be important if you were finally willing to play along with me."

"I was wondering if you knew where Leoflaed and Theo are," she said, her concern reflected in her light brown eyes. "I just realized that I haven't seen them since the ceremony. Of course, perhaps Leoflaed was overwhelmed by all the people in her condition, but I remembered that I did not see them at the feast either."

Hermione was startled when Tom began to laugh at her. He brought one large hand up to cup her cheek, almost tenderly. "Oh, Hermione. You think you are so clever," he condescended. "Lovely Leoflaed and her husband are safely locked away. I've had them imprisoned earlier today."

She stared at him in shock. "Why? What have they done?" she questioned. "If you are trying to get me on your side, this won't help your cause one bit. If anything happens to Leoflaed's child, I will kill you myself," she snarled back at him, feeling her heart rate increase dramatically. She couldn't believe that she'd just threatened to kill the King, but she didn't understand why he would do such a thing.

"They've been imprisoned for treason," Tom answered with a gleeful smile, clearly enjoying how much it was hurting her. "You must have thought you were being so tricky going behind my back. I never once thought that the Rowles would let Ivar's death slide and I've been listening for any whispers about them. I would have given Leoflaed the benefit of the doubt as she was married to young Theo, but then he went and revealed himself to me that day in the gardens."

Hermione cursed Theo for his bold statement that they should name their son Ivar, remembering the look of malice he'd worn on his face. But, she knew that she couldn't confirm anything to the King, as it would only seal their fates. "I don't know what you are talking about," she said, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

"And _then_ Fenrir was only too happy to tell me about Thorfinn's little plan to invade the City tonight," Tom laughed, pressing her body closer to his, invading every inch of her senses. "Of course, I already knew the general ideas of Eirik and Thorfinn's plan - it was only too obvious, seeing as they are such accomplished sailors."

She felt her breath hitch, wondering just how much of the plan Tom really knew, silently cursing Fenrir for betraying them. She should have told Thorfinn not to trust the Dane. Still, something about the plan didn't seem right. Eirik was an accomplished sailor, yes, but Thorfinn had not particularly set himself apart as a sailor. Was this really their plan all along?

"But I didn't know the particulars. Fenrir was more than happy to tell me everything. All I had to do was offer him a bit more silver and he will do whatever I tell him," Tom smirked, looking her up and down. "Perhaps I should reward him with a night with you, once you give him an heir. After all, I know how much you adore vikingrs."

Hermione felt absolutely disgusted that he would offer his wife as a prize to a mercenary like Fenrir. "You wouldn't dare," Hermione scowled, trying not to show him just how much the idea of it frightened her. "You might not like me, but Rodolphus couldn't stand for it if the legitimacy of your heirs was questioned," she reasoned, jutting her chin out in defiance.

"Perhaps," he said with a shrug. "But I am more excited to see how Thorfinn's little uprising plays out. I am so going to enjoy watching him die out on the Slyth."

She swallowed, realizing that Tom hadn't said anything about her family, so he must not know that they were in on it too. Had they brought any warriors with them? Brigantes were fierce fighters, but there were so many people loyal to Tom in the Kingdom. Still, they would have the element of surprise. He also hadn't mentioned her rendezvous with Thorfinn earlier in the day, so he didn't know that her blond lover had already been in the City. Tom might have had advanced warning, but he certainly didn't know everything. It gave her hope that things weren't going to turn out as terrible as she thought.

Tom smiled seeing how pale she'd gone with worry. "Don't worry, my sweet. I'll let Lady Leoflaed live until the child is born," he said magnanimously. "And since you obviously care so much for the little whelp, we can foster it here. If it's a boy, he can be thoroughly educated in what happens to traitors and he can inherit his father's lands once he's of age. If it's a girl, we will find a suitable husband for her."

Hermione could feel tears welling in her eyes at the thought. There was no way she was going to allow Tom to raise Leoflaed's child, teaching it to hate his family. It was enough to make her want to kill him right here and now, but she knew that she was too vulnerable. There were too many people around who would stop her.

"I can't believe I've finally made you speechless," Tom said with a grin on his face. "Of course, I've always been good at finding where to press people to get them to do what I want, but I will admit it was a bit harder with you than normal." He made that sound like a compliment, but all Hermione could think about was how little Tom cared for people other than himself.

"I will tell Rodolphus about King Salazar - about what you did to him," Hermione threatened, wanting him to hurt as much as she did. "Then, he will see the crown removed from you."

Tom laughed at her once again, and she wondered how she had ever thought it sounded lovely. "Who do you think helped me get the crown in the first place?" he asked with a grin. "Rodolphus believes in me. He knows that it is only I who can bring the Kingdom of Slytherin to glory. Soon, this whole land will be mine."

She still wasn't entirely sure of what she could even say. "I didn't want any of this to happen," she said sullenly, thinking of how much of a nightmare this had turned into. Her wedding day was supposed to be a happy day, but instead she was teetering between fear and blind hope.

"Of course you didn't," Tom answered, wrapping his arm around her shoulders once more, leading her back towards the dancing. "Now, put on a brave face, darling. I am sure there a lot more hangers on who will want to dance with the King's lady," he teased, walking her back towards Rodolphus.

The King's advisor looked immediately concerned when he saw her face. "My Lady, are you ill?" he questioned, seeing the unshed tears that lingered in her eyes, and the scowl that was permanently affixed to her face.

"She's just learned that Lady Leoflaed had to retire for the night," Tom explained, using veiled language that Rodolphus seemed to understand all too well, if his relieved look was anything to judge by. "She will be fine after she's had some rest, of course."

Before either of the men could talk further, a great scream startled all the occupants of the hall. Hermione spun to see the source of the yell. There, near the entrance to the hall, was Daphne her lovely golden dress covered in bright red blood. A soldier was clutching her shoulders, hoping to keep upright, and it became immediately obvious that he was the one bleeding.

His eyes searched for the King, and he stumbled forward once he saw him, holding his belly to try to stop the bleeding there, but the gash was far too large. The man was death walking. His wild eyes never left King Tom while he crossed the hall, men and ladies alike moving out of the way of his meandering path, horrified looks on their faces.

He collapsed at Hermione's feet, his fingers grabbing at the hem of her dress as he tried to stand once more. "My King, we've been attacked," he whispered. "Down at the docks. Dozens - hundreds of them."

Tom did not look one bit pleased. He snapped his fingers at Rodolphus, who helped the wounded man get to his feet once more. "We knew that the attack was coming," Tom said with a frown, wondering just how it had all gone wrong. "I've doubled the watch there. You should have been able to handle it."

The man's face had grown pale and drawn in pain. He shook his head back and forth. "Not what was planned. We were betrayed," he said, struggling to get his words out. "Saxons and Danes both, double the ships we thought. Fenrir -"

Tom's face looked positively murderous. "Fenrir lied," he completed the statement with a snarl, his practiced facade cracking the minute things didn't go his way. He drew his sword and stabbed the soldier right then, ending the man's pain at least. Hermione knew that he had not done it as a kindness though.

The guests were all murmuring nervously now, obviously concerned by the idea of a possible invasion. Many had lived through the Danish invasions in the past, and they had no desire to have the city sacked once again. King Tom had promised that the peace that King Salazar had forged would remain, but now, only a year after being crowned, the promise had been broken.

"Your city is under attack!" Tom called out to the assembled crowd, easily holding their attention. "There are those who are unhappy that I have chosen Lady Hermione as my wife and wish to punish me, and therefore, my Kingdom. But we will not stand for this! Go to the taverns and rouse your household guards, for we will all need to work together to stave off the invaders!"

Immediately, the room sprang into action, people moving every which way, to do Tom's bidding or to hide, Hermione wasn't sure. Tom looked furious, rubbing a hand down his face. "Let us hope they haven't drank themselves blind on my ale already," he said bitterly to Rodolphus.

"It is early still," Rodolphus said, calmly. "They should still be in a fighting state."

"Fetch me my armor," Tom ordered his advisor. Though he wore his sword strapped to his side, he was wearing his best clothing and nothing protective. Should he go out there now, he would be vulnerable to death. "I will deal with these traitors myself. And so help Fenrir should I find him, Odin himself couldn't stop me from killing him," he said with a snarl.

"My King, you cannot fight," Rodolphus said insistently. "It is too dangerous," he added, a bit of fear in his voice for the first time in the night.

"Why the hell not?" Tom demanded of his advisor. "I will remove Thorfinn's head just as I did to his bloody father."

Rodolphus gave Hermione a significant look. "Tom, you have no heirs. If you should fall in battle then your line would no longer continue and that is something that I cannot allow to happen, not after all the work we've put into securing the crown. You will go to your rooms now and bar yourself with your new bride until these rebels are dealt with," Rodolphus ordered sternly, concern evident on his face, making him look older than he was.

The King sneered at him, clearly annoyed at being spoken to in such a way. Though he was thinking over the merits of the words at the same time. Suddenly, he surged forward, grabbing Rodolphus by his tunic. "Fine, I will go consummate my marriage," he growled out, glancing back at where Hermione was standing. "But, you would do well to remember _never_ to speak to me like that again. I am the King and I will do as I please."

His advisor swallowed thickly. "Of course, my King. I worried only for the safety of your person and your lineage," the man begged, his eyes reflecting with a bit of fear. Hermione wondered if he regretted putting someone like Tom in power now that he was seeing how fragile it all was.

"And Rodolphus?" Tom asked, letting the other man go. "You will inform me the _moment_ all of the rebels have been captured, so that I can dispense justice."

"Yes, my King," Rodolphus nodded furiously. "The very moment, you will be called for."

Tom smiled, grabbing Hermione by her upper arm, looking completely maniacal. "Especially Thorfinn. I'd like him brought to me alive," he said, pressing his face into Hermione's hair. "I've promised my bride that I should let her see him one last time before I kill him."

Hermione shuddered, her skin crawling everywhere the King touched her. His promise was utterly sinister and she worried that he might actually succeed. It seemed like things always turned in Tom's favor and she didn't know what she would do should he succeed in killing Thorfinn, too.

His grip was like iron on her upper arm as he pulled her out of the hall, a picture of calm fury in the midst of all the chaos in the City. People were running every which way, screams and cries in the night air, and if she strained her ears she could hear the clang of metal in the distance. A child blocked their path, sobbing furiously, obviously separated from his parents, but Tom just pulled her along, unable to help him.

She practically had to jog to keep up with the King as he led her back to the royal apartments. Turning her head wildly, she tried to figure out as best she could what was happening, but there were too many people to figure it out. In the direction of the Slyth, she could see smoke billowing and she wondered just what was on fire.

Fear gripped her when she realized just how much of their city was wood, and made a comment to the King. "There's a fire. We should get out of the City while we can," she said feeling completely emotionless.

Tom laughed while he pushed her into his rooms, barring the door behind them with a heavy bar. Hermione stumbled inside, catching herself on his chair. "They will ring the bells if the fire reaches the City," he grinned down at her. She stared at her new husband in shock, seeing how little compassion he had for his people. "Now, let's see about _continuing my lineage_ , since Rodolphus is so concerned with that," he said, walking towards her.

Hermione backed away from the advancing man, wanting to put as much space between them as possible, but in the small room, he was impossible to avoid. If Tom thought that she was going to comply, he was going to be terribly disappointed. She was a fighter.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so excited about this chapter, especially with where we left off. I hope that you will enjoy it, too! Also, I've recently posted the first chapter of a Theo x Daphne story if you are interested - it's my first time writing non-Hermione centric fanfiction, so I will be eager to hear what people think. Check it out if you'd like! You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. HUGE thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty and be on the lookout for chapter twenty-one soon!

* * *

Leaving Hermione alone to go off to the Church, to get married to the King, was one of the hardest things that Thorfinn had ever done. It would have been easy for him to take her with him when he left, but he knew that he couldn't be selfish anymore. He had too many people counting on him, and he couldn't think selfishly. Yes, he wanted to be with Hermione, but he needed revenge for his father.

Once he was safely outside the City walls once more, he assembled his army, if you could call them that. Their numbers were small, but he could count on many excellent fighters among them. Half of Eni's men had gone with them inside as part of their party, but the other half would be part of the sneak attack.

Eirik's fleet of ships was ready and prepared to bring havoc to the port. After several discussions with Fenrir, they agreed that he should tell the King about Thorfinn's plans to invade via the port. They were hopeful that it would draw most of the royal forces towards the water, leaving the city walls less guarded. Fenrir had even agreed to call his own war band, who had been raiding further up the coast, to join into the water attack. Thorfinn was torn between being grateful for the help, and being increasingly cautious with the Danish warriors.

When night had fallen, his brother and him had bid each other farewell, each saying a prayer to Woden that the other would be delivered through the fighting. After that, Eirik had boarded his ship, before sailing away into the inky blackness of the night.

Meanwhile, he had rallied his men before sneaking their way through the forest towards the City Walls. Yes, they were small in number, but they had the element of surprise in their hands. The King might know that they were coming, but Thorfinn was fairly sure that Tom had severely underestimated him.

Then, they waited.

It had been agreed on that Ario would signal them with a torch once it was safe the enter the City and Thorfinn didn't think he'd ever anticipated something so much in his life. In just a few minutes, he was either going to be rushing to his death or rushing to victory, and remaining on the precipice of the unknown had his stomach in knots.

Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity, the door to the City walls opened and Ario stuck his tattooed face out, waving them in. Moving as quietly as they could in clinking armor, Thorfinn and his men entered the city.

Once they were inside the barrier of the walls, he found Eni and some of the men he'd brought with, carrying bloody swords. With their eyes trained towards the port, he could see smoke billowing. While they were regrouping, Aseu came running towards them from the Great Hall.

"Fenrir has done his part, and the guards have all rushed to the boats," he said, sounding breathless. "The King has retreated with Hermione, but I am unsure where."

Thorfinn felt his stomach sink at that bit of information, worrying about Hermione being left alone with the King, who was likely furious at the turn of events. However, he knew that she was a capable woman and he had to have faith that she could hold out just a little bit longer, just long enough for them to defeat the royal forces.

He let himself get angry about Hermione being stolen from him, wanting to use his fury to help drive him into battle. It was one thing for him to be planning this invasion, but it was an entirely different thing to lead his war band into battle. The consequences were hitting him and he worried about what would happen to Hermione, to his sister if he should fail here.

Stealing himself, he looked at his assembled forces. Each and every man looked hardened and ready. They had all come to terms with what was on the line, but they were waiting for him to make a move.

"Let's go then," Thorfinn said, knowing that they needed to proceed to the next part of their plan if they were going to win. "But, remember, remain silent until they see you," he added. The King's men thought that their backs were safe and were only concerned with beating back the invaders at the port, so they had to box them in now from the rear. Then, once they were trapped, they would fight until the royal forces surrendered.

Pulling out his sword, Thorfinn lead the charge down towards that water.

* * *

Hermione stared at Tom while he got to work removing his sword belt from where it was tied at his waist, slamming onto the ground in a loud clank. She flinched while he took a step towards her, menacing, as though he were some forest predator intent on devouring her whole.

He closed the distance between them, bringing his hands to her shoulders, leaning his head down to capture her mouth in a cruel kiss. Hermione kept her lips clamped shut, unmoving and pulled her head away from him. "Stop it! You can't honestly think that I will lie with you now," she snarled, trying to get away from his iron grasp. "You've imprisoned my friends. You are trying to kill more of my family as we speak."

Tom rolled his eyes at her. "You talk out of turn _far_ too much, Hermione," he scolded, his voice deadly and serious. Pulling her to him once again Tom pressed his lips against her neck, sucking and biting the skin there until she was certain she would have red welts. He didn't seem to care that she was struggling against him.

Wanting him off of her, Hermione pulled her hands up, slapping and clawing at his face. Tom hissed when her nail caught him across the cheek, bringing blood to the surface. He grabbed her hands in his, pinning her tiny wrists into one hand, while the other worked to undo the lacings at the front of her overdress.

Kicking at his feet, Hermione did not cease her struggling. "Stop! What are you doing?" she demanded, trying to project confidence that she wasn't feeling.

"I already told you, _darling_ , I am trying to continue my line," Tom answered with a smile, making his face seem more grotesque than before. He might look beautiful to a stranger, but Hermione knew that underneath his handsome face there was a monster. "And how else am I supposed to conceive an heir than by fucking you?"

Hermione felt her heart pounding against her ribcage, praying that Thorfinn would come bursting in the door, saving her from the clutches of the King. She gasped when Tom spun her around, pressing her onto his bed onto her stomach. When she hit the edge, the breath was knocked out of her, leaving her momentarily stunned. Tom wrenched her hands behind her back, holding them all the more tightly, making her feel as if her shoulder might be pulled straight from the socket. "Please," she begged weakly, feeling tears at the corner of her eyes.

Tom laughed, pressing his cock against the curve of her behind obscenely, making her tears flow all the faster. "Don't worry wife, I'll give you what you want," he said.

Hermione shook her head. _This_ wasn't what she wanted at all. She wanted to be saved, free from Tom's presence. She wanted to be comforted by Thorfinn once again. She wanted to speak with her father and brothers. She wanted revenge for Earl Ivar. She _wanted_ Tom dead. She pressed her eyes shut tightly, feeling hopelessly like she was never going to get what she wanted.

His hands felt cold against the back of her legs while he lifted the skirts of her shift up, exposing her legs to the cold of the room. "Stop it," Hermione said more insistently, but still unable to get herself free. Tom pressed her more firmly against the bed with his legs, releasing her hands so that he could adjust his trousers.

It was then that she realized no one could give her what she wanted, but _she_ could certainly take it. Right now, when her hands were free, she had the opportunity to do something about Tom.

She wasn't sure how he'd missed the dagger that was strapped to her leg when he was lifting her skirts. It was tied there at her calf, just as she'd worn it every day. Lunging, Hermione's fingers reached for the dagger, pulling it out of it's sheath, clutching it by the handle.

Tom seemed thrilled by her movement, so wrapped up in himself that he didn't notice what she was doing. "Oh, do you want to see your husband's face as he deflowers you?" he asked sarcastically, giving her a slap on the rear for good measure. Grabbing her by the hips, he flipped her over before settling between her spread thighs once again.

Hermione's face hardened when she came face to face with his smug grin. But it was clear that he was not expecting to see her smiling triumphantly in return. She relished the moment that he saw the dagger in her hand, his perfect mask slipping, torn halfway between fury and shock.

Rearing back, Hermione drove the dagger forward, putting her whole body behind the attack. Tom went sprawling backwards, trying to catch the dagger in his hands, but the sharpened blade slipped through the flesh of his palms, spilling blood on his wedding tunic.

Hermione jumped on top of him then, straddling his waist. She drew the blade back again, before plunging it directly into his chest. Nostrils flaring, Hermione watched the King's face as his blue eyes widened in a final act of surprise, as if he couldn't truly believe that she had done it, as if he couldn't actually believe he was dying. He sputtered, once, twice, blood bubbling up from his mouth. She was disgusted by it, but forced herself to watch the final breaths of Earl Ivar's killer.

Only when his body finally grew slack did Hermione allow herself to stand up. Her hand was shaking, but she wasn't overwhelmed yet with the severity of what she'd done. Instead, all she could feel was adrenaline racing through her body.

The noise of the battle raging on outside slowly filtered back into her mind over the pounding of her heartbeat. She remembered that Thorfinn, her family and friends, were out there, and she needed to get to them.

* * *

Battle was raging all around Thorfinn, and there was too much carnage for him to see if they were winning or not. It didn't matter, for he would be fighting to the death.

When they made it to the port, Eirik and Fenrir's forces were swarming the shores, the royal fleet set aflame by the Danes. The way that they menaced forward from the fire and the smoke, made them appear out of this world, as if sent by the gods themselves. However, the smoke was not making things easier, and the fire was dangerous for both sides should you get too close. Thorfinn had already seen one of his father's men being pushed to a smoldering end.

They had caught the King's forces completely by surprise and by the time the warband was upon them, they were trapped by his shield wall. The Britons had descended then, throwing spears from horseback, catching the royal soldiers by surprise, unused to such tactics which were generally seen as too primitive to be of use.

Hermione's brothers fought with a grace that he had seen Hermione herself possess. He had been worried when he saw one of the twins being struck from his horse, but luckily he got up from the ground immediately, killing the man who had unseated him. He had thought they had been exaggerating when they said a Briton was worth ten Saxons, but now he was wondering if they weren't right. In any case, he was glad that Eni and his sons were on his side.

Most of the Saxons seemed to have been completely fooled by Eni's old man routine, and were completely unprepared for his intense fighting. Thorfinn understood his fierceness, seeing as he was fighting for Hermione. Thorfinn was fighting for the same thing.

Thorfinn himself had cut down half a dozen men, but he was disappointed to see that the King was nowhere to be found on the narrowing battlefield. He knew that Aseu had said that the King had taken Hermione to his rooms, but he had imagined that the King would _eventually_ need to come out to the fighting, to rally his own war band. Why should they continue to fight for him when he stayed safely tucked away? They needed to see that he was willing to fight for them in turn.

It was no matter. He quickly located Rodolphus Lestrange and fought his way towards the man. Thorfinn had a long memory and he had not forgotten the man who had knocked him back from his horse, leaving him with a headache the size of the Kingdom. Not to mention, this was the man who made sure all of King Tom's odious plans were acted out.

Advancing forward, he engaged the dark-haired man in a fierce sword battle, finding that the King's advisor was a much better swordsman than Thorfinn would have guessed. But, the battle was quickly moving in Thorfinn's favor. Despite Rodolphus's skill, he didn't have any of the rage that Thorfinn was feeding on. With a quick motion, Thorfinn managed to send the other man's sword flying.

Rodolphus looked stunned for a moment, before looking up at Thorfinn with malice in his eyes. "It makes no matter if you kill me. The King will have already deflowered that little savage that you want so badly," he said with a grin. "Will you still want her if she carries another man's child?"

Thorfinn felt his blood run cold, thinking about Hermione alone and unprotected with Tom. But, he knew that it wouldn't make him love Hermione any less. He knew that she didn't want the King, and wanted him instead, and that was all he needed. Raising his sword over head, Thorfinn moved to strike a killing blow on the still smirking man.

At the last moment, his sword was met with steel. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to see that it was Rabastan who had matched blades with him, stopping him from killing Rodolphus. Thorfinn stared at the smaller man with furious eyes, wondering if he had gone back on his promise, if he'd been playing both sides all along. He had been counting on Rabastan betraying his family, but now it seemed as if the tides were turning.

Rabastan took a step back towards Rodolphus, letting his sword slide out from Thorfinn's. Then, he spun on his heel. "Goodbye, brother," he said with a grin, before thrusting his sword into Rodolphus's stomach, sending the man toppling backwards. He turned back to face Thorfinn giving him a playful look. "Sorry to catch you like that, Earl Thorfinn, but I wanted to be the one to send my brother on," he said with a tip of his head. He pressed his fingers into his lips, before whistling loudly.

Immediately, all the men that Rabastan had brought with him from his homestead began fighting with Thorfinn's. The tide was certainly turning in the battle and Thorfinn could practically taste victory. They had been well matched before, but now with Rabastan's help, it seemed as if they would certainly win. Unfortunately, the royal forces seemed intent on fighting until the very bitter end, which meant more of his men would be killed needlessly.

Just as Thorfinn was deciding to head off to find the King and rescue Hermione, he was distracted by a rider on a horse barrelling for the line. The horse galloped down the middle of the fighting, trampling on men in the process.

Looking up, Thorfinn was completely struck when he realized that the rider was none other than Hermione, wearing nothing more than her white shift. Her hands and dress were stained bright red with fresh blood, but her wedding crown still sat in her wildly curling hair. He didn't think he'd _ever_ seen her looking more fierce, or more powerful as she did in that moment. He was completely overcome by her beauty, her regalness.

She looked around the fighting with her chin held high, before opening her mouth to speak. "YOUR KING IS DEAD!" she shouted, causing the battle to still quickly. "I COMMAND YOU TO DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" she added, before urging her horse to run up and down the line repeating the words.

If the royal forces had already been disheartened by the sneak attack, the rear attack and Rabastan's last minute change of allegiance, it seemed as if Hermione's pronouncement was the final straw. He couldn't detect who it was that dropped their sword first, but soon the field was filled with a cacophony of steel on steel as the royal forces dropped their weapons, doing as their lady commanded.

Thorfinn stared at Hermione in awe, thoroughly impressed with how she commanded everyone's attention from horseback. His blood was already up from the fighting, but he knew now that there would be no other woman for him but Hermione. How he'd ever thought he could get through life without her, he wasn't sure.

But now, King Tom was dead, and he'd done all he'd set out to achieve, his father's life avenged. He was filled with a sense of anticipation of what would happen next. All he had left to do was get Hermione to agree to be his wife.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so pleased that you enjoyed badass Hermione, taking control of her life back. We aren't quite to domestic bliss yet. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Huge thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-one and be on the lookout for chapter twenty-two soon!

* * *

After the battle was won, Thorfinn had wanted to do nothing more than throw Hermione over his shoulder and ride away with her to some place where he could enjoy her without being disturbed by anyone. However, it seemed as if that fate was not planned for the pair of them. Hermione had swept out of the battle as swiftly as she'd entered it, galloping off towards Woden knew where.

He, on the other hand, had been quickly inundated with questions about what happened now that the royal forces had surrendered. They'd actually succeeded in their coup of King Tom, but Thorfinn hadn't actually put any thought into what happened afterwards. There were prisoners to take, and towns people to calm, and for some reason everyone was looking to him for answers.

They'd had to work through the night and he wasn't able to slip away and look for the elusive Hermione until dawn had breached the horizon.

Thorfinn felt bone-weary, but he knew that he could not rest until he found the woman he loved. They had so much left to say to one another and he would not chance anything going wrong once again. He wanted to ask her about how the King had died and ascertain that she was alright. He'd promised that he'd protect her - that he wouldn't let anything happen to her - and he was very worried that he'd failed.

When he finally found her, Hermione was sitting in the middle of a sunbeam, her hair looking tousled and wild. She still wore the flower crown in her hair, though it now sat slightly askew and rumpled. Her underdress was dirty and bloody, with one sleeve ripped away. She looked like some sort of vengeful goddess of war, as though Tyr himself had taken the female form and walked the Earth.

She was joined by her brothers, one laying on the ground next to her while he chatted about their home, while the other held a small needle in his hand, repeatedly puncturing her arm with the bright blue woad. Her tattoo was taking on a more elaborate shape, as the once tiny dots were refreshed and converted into flowers.

He hated to break into the family moment, but he needed to speak with Hermione. Clearing his throat, he felt his heart skip the moment Hermione laid eyes on him. Her face was transformed by a bright smile. "Earl Thorfinn," she said with a teasing grin on her face. "How I have longed to be reunited with you."

Making short work of the distance between them, Thorfinn dropped to his knees once he reached her feet. "My darling Hermione, I have defeated armies for the chance to be in your presence once more," he said, his voice catching in his throat when she brought up her arm to cup his bearded cheek. He grabbed her hand and kissed the pads of her fingers, uncaring about the flaking blood he found there. "But I am afraid I wasn't there to protect you in the moment when you needed me."

Hermione's nostrils flared a bit at that. "It is true that I had to rely on myself in that moment," Hermione said with a swallow. "I am grateful that your father saw fit to train me with my dagger. The King would have raped me if I did not kill him." Her voice was cold and solemn as she remembered the moment not even half a day prior. "But kill him I did. I have learned to rely on myself."

"Never fear, Lady Hermione," Thorfinn said honestly, hoping to convey all of the feeling that he had in that moment. "Now that we are reunited, I will protect you for the rest of your days."

She bit her lip, her eyes dropping down to her lap before sweeping between her two brothers. "Aseu, Ario, may I speak with Thorfinn alone?" she asked, her voice trembling. "I will find you later to finish," she motioned to the bright band of blue that was vibrant and refreshed, confirming to herself that she was every bit the Briton that she claimed to be, reconnecting her to a life that she had left long ago.

The twin brothers looked between their older sister and the man that they had fought alongside with suspicion, but eventually agreed. Their brown eyes gave Thorfinn a look of warning as they left their sister alone with him, a small act of protection that Thorfinn thought was misplaced. They knew how much he loved their sister, and that he would never do anything to hurt her.

When they were finally alone, Thorfinn took her hand in his, amazed at how well they fit together, despite his own hand being much larger. His fingers traced up the inside of her forearm, stopping to rest just below the newly decorated tattoo. "It suits you, Hermione," he said softly, making cautious eye contact with her. "This reminds me of all those stolen moments on my father's farmstead."

Hermione swallowed, breaking their eye contact. "You cannot think that just because you've won your coup that you've won me as well," she said, disbelievingly. "Thorfinn, although I did not wish to be kidnapped by King Tom, you must know that we did not part on good terms."

He sighed, using his hand to cup her cheek, wanting to look deeply into her eyes so that she could see the depth of his feeling. "I am aware that we did not part on good terms, but I thought that we had agreed to try to start over as well," he countered, feeling a bit hurt that she still thought of him that way, but knowing that it was a necessary conversation. "We were trying to become friends once again."

She took a shuddering breath. "That is true. I had hoped that we could be friends."

"Had hoped? Surely you don't think that time has passed?" Thorfinn asked her, fear beginning to creep up in his heart. "Hermione, I must confess to you that before the King took you, I asked my father for permission to marry you, and he granted it."

A dark look passed over her face, and she pulled her hand out of his. "Oh, so as soon as Tom made it clear that he wanted me for a wife, you suddenly got the idea that I could be yours?" she asked sharply, annoyance evident in her voice. "The week before I was only good enough to warm your bed as a mistress while you had a wife, but as soon as someone else wants me, then you get it in your head that I should be yours? Do you know what I think?" She crossed her hands over her chest, looking at him with a disappointed frown. "I think that you only want to marry me now _because_ the King married me."

Thorfinn shook his head, anger on his face. "That isn't true, Hermione! I want you as my wife _because_ I love you," he told her ardently. "I've always loved you, I just didn't realize it."

"So why is it only now that I am hearing about it?" she asked, tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

"Because I was stupid, unwise," Thorfinn answered. "I had never thought about marrying _anyone_ until my father demanded it of me, but even then, I never once thought of giving you up. The minute that I sorted myself out, I asked him for your hand. He told me that I could only have it should I convince you to marry me."

Hermione was definitely faltering as he explained his words. "So you don't deny that the King's interest influenced you."

"Yes, the King made me see things clearly," Thorfinn answered. "But, my feelings for you have remained unchanged - now I just have a name for what it is. I love you, Hermione, daughter of Eni. And I have fought to free you from an unwanted suitor, avenged my father's death, but I will...respect your wishes now. If you'd like to banish me from your life forever, I will leave. However, I'd like to spend the rest of my days proving myself worthy of you."

Hermione was silent. Thorfinn wished that she would scream or yell at him, because then he would at least know what she was feeling. Finally, she pulled herself forward onto her knees, pressing a kiss to his lips, her cheeks wet with tears. Breaking the kiss, Hermione looked at him with tortured eyes. "Please, let me consider your words, Thorfinn. I care for you too deeply to rush my decision," she pleaded.

Although it felt like a dagger to his heart, Thorfinn nodded, agreeing to give her space. She stood abruptly, before stalking off in the direction of the royal apartments, leaving him sitting alone.

* * *

Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror that was still in her rooms, knowing that she needed to act quickly if she was going to make it to the Witenagemot on time. It hadn't even been one day since she'd killed Tom, but they had already decided to assemble to choose the next ruler of the Kingdom of Slytherin.

She had expected to feel differently after killing a man, but instead, she only felt a sense of pride that _she'd_ been able to defend herself, taking her fate into her own hands. Thorfinn had promised to protect her - and she knew that he'd taken on Kingdoms to do so - but there was a satisfaction in knowing that it was all down to her in the end that the battle's outcome was so positive.

Her new pride was only further stoked by her reunion with her father and brothers, who were content to listen to how she'd overpowered the King more than once. Aseu and Ario were such a wonderful reflection of who she could have been, and she was content to spend all morning in their presence, learning everything that she could about them and their sister Diseta, a young woman she longed to meet.

It had been Ario's idea to add to her tattoo, saying that she was a true warrior now, and that she deserved the markings to commemorate it. She was pleased to have something so permanent commemorating her connection to her family, to her roots.

Pulling on a new shift and overdress, Hermione wished that she could show off the blue ink to the assembled ealdormen, who'd looked down on her for her otherness, but knew that it wouldn't do her any good to purposefully provoke them. It was an era of change, and they would _all_ have to learn to work together, if they wanted to have success. The change of power had been orchestrated by a half-Northman, Saxons, Dane, and Britons all together, and Hermione hoped that this would show the rest of the Kingdom just what could happen when they all worked together.

Striding into the Witen wearing a flattering blue overdress, Hermione was surprised to see how many faces remained from the Witen she'd attended when Tom presented her as his bride. Rodolphus had been replaced by Rabastan, who was speaking with a man called Rosier. Lucius Malfoy was no longer there, instead locked away, and was represented by his ashen-looking son, Draco. Theo represented his family. Eirik and Thorfinn stood in the circle, as did Fenrir and her father, Eni.

Bishop Severus appeared to be one of the only remaining familiar faces and she couldn't help but smirk at him when she entered the circle as well. "This is for wise _men_ , Lady Hermione, not silly girls who think they know more than they do," he said firmly, not wanting her to influence the proceedings.

"On the contrary, Bishop Severus, I am the only one here who can represent the crown, seeing as my husband died without an heir," Hermione responded smartly.

"The only reason he died is because _you_ killed him," Severus barked back, not appreciating her tone.

"Yes I did kill the King," Hermione said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "And you would do well to remember that, Severus."

"Is that a threat?" Severus asked coldly, staring her down with his impossibly dark eyes, looming over her as if he could stare her into submission. Too bad for him, she did not follow his god and any threats that he made didn't scare her.

"Enough, Severus," Rabastan said smoothly, stepping between the two of them. "I've invited Lady Hermione because I believe that her genuine council will be useful. Apparently my brother has been bribing and threatening other members of the Witen for years to get what he wanted. Obviously the old way wasn't working."

Severus sputtered in shock at hearing that Rodolphus would do something like that, but was quieted when the meeting was called to order. "We've gathered here to determine who should be the next leader of the Kingdom of Slytherin," Rosier's slightly-accented voice rang through the large hall. Immediately everyone quieted. "There are many among us who are worthy of the title."

"I for one think that there is only one person who has the ability to lead us," Rabastan's voice called out from next to her, shocking Hermione. "And, he is the man who brought us all together today. Earl Thorfinn, son of Ivar, should be the next King."

Some of the members of Tom's old retinue sputtered in shock at this pronouncement, grumbling that someone who had actively fought against the Kingdom should be able to rule it. Theo was quick to lend his voice to Thorfinn's name. "I agree with Rabastan," he said firmly. "Who among us is better suited?" he asked.

"You only wish to see him crowned because you are married to his sister," Draco Malfoy drawled from his spot, hands crossed over his chest in a show of petulance.

Theo's cheeks colored at the accusation, but he did not back down from his statement. "That may be true, but it is not the reason that I nominate Earl Thorfinn," Theo said, his voice raising in volume so that everyone could hear him. "I thought that the quest to save Lady Hermione was a fool's errand, one that was certain to end in death, and it was only under Thorfinn's guidance, knowledge and planning that we were successful. Yes, he does not have much experience, but I have seen him rely on wise counsel to assist him."

"Yes, but he went about it all wrong," Bishop Severus said, stepping forward into the circle. "If Earl Thorfinn had a grievance with the King, he should have come forward and brought his case to the esteemed Witen."

"With all due respect, Bishop Severus," Hermione interrupted the dark haired man. "We both know that Earl Thorfinn would not have gotten the outcome he deserved had he done that. For too long, King Tom had been taking what he wanted without anyone's knowledge - lands, women, the crown itself."

Gasps could be heard throughout the room that Hermione was willing to acknowledge what appeared to be an open secret that Tom had killed the prior King. "So, then we are in agreement? Earl Thorfinn should be the new King?" Rabastan asked shrewdly, his voice lending credence to Hermione's words, seeing as it was his brother who orchestrated much of Tom's rise to power.

Murmurs of agreement rang through the room and even Hermione found herself loudly agreeing with the question, lending her voice to her childhood friend. Cautiously, she glanced up at Thorfinn who had been largely silent up until this point, wanting to see his face. To her surprise, he looked stricken, as if he never imagined this possible outcome. His clear blue eyes sought her face out in the circle.

"I will agree to be your King, but only on one condition," Thorfinn said slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I will only agree if you give your consent for Hermione to be my wife. She would rule by my side, not just as my Lady, but as my Queen."

"Are you insane?" Bishop Severus asked, aghast. "There is a reason this Kingdom hasn't used the title of Queen for decades. If you've missed your lessons, it's because the last Queen poisoned her husband. And Lady Hermione has just admitted to killing her previous husband - the _King_ \- here at the Witenagemot - and is proud of the fact! Absolutely not," he pronounced.

Thorfinn shook his head. "I'm not insane, I just know that there is no one better suited not only to me, but there is no woman better suited to assist in ruling this Kingdom. She is learned, she knows what goes into running a large estate from working with my father, she's a _warrior_ , and she's already fought for this Kingdom," he explained his reasoning, his voice gaining confidence the longer he discussed her bona fides.

Hermione could feel her heart beating in her chest as a cheer erupted from the men who'd fought for her, starting with her brother Aseu, if she was not mistaken. It was lovely to hear all of the things that Thorfinn appreciated about her, that had nothing to do with their physical relationship.

"It sounds as if you have your consent, Earl Thorfinn," Theo shouted, a grin on his face.

But Thorfinn shook his head, sadly. "Not yet, Theo. Before my father died, he asserted that Hermione should choose her husband, and I will not take that privilege away from her now," he explained, before turning to stand in front of Hermione. "I do not expect an answer now, Lady Hermione, but please tell me that you will consider me for your husband."

Hermione swallowed hard, her stomach flip flopping with nerves seeing everyone's eyes on her, expectant. Biting her lower lip, she considered Thorfinn's request. "Earl Thorfinn, I believe this is a discussion better held in private," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Will you speak with me outside?" she requested, before leading the blond out of the chamber to talk about their future.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so pleased that you enjoyed the last chapter, especially with Thorfinn's speech. Some of you were worried with Hermione's attitude - I think she just needed to make sure that he wanted her for her and not just because some other man wanted her. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions! Huge thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter for me.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-two and be on the lookout for chapter twenty-three soon!

* * *

Thorfinn followed Hermione out of the Hall where the Witen was being held, feeling as if his heart was in his throat. He worried if perhaps he had pushed Hermione too fast, asking for too much too soon, especially since she'd just asked him not to rush her decision.

They stopped beneath a hawthorn tree that had already begun to drop it's leaves. Hermione turned to look at him, her eyes roving his face as if she were trying to read his thoughts. He stepped forward, pressing his hand to the gentle curve of her waist. "I don't mean to rush you, Hermione," he told her honestly. "I will wait any amount of time for you to make up your mind, but I will never stop desiring you." He didn't want to push her into making a decision that she didn't want to, but at the same time he knew that he couldn't live without her.

Hermione brought her hand up to his shoulder, before pressing her cheek against his broad chest, listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat. "Did you really mean all the things that you said in the Witen?" Hermione asked cautiously. "You want to make me Queen?" Her voice caught in her throat. Saying the words aloud made the meaning seem so fragile, as though it might crumble away into nothingness if she questioned it.

Using his hand to cup her cheek, Thorfinn turned her face up to look at him. From his vantage point he could see every one of the tiny freckles that dusted the bridge of her nose, her cheeks. His thumb traced along the full edge of her lower lip. "Yes, I meant it. You know I'd be helpless without you."

"I don't know, you seem to have done alright without me these past few weeks," she countered with a sniffle, her eyes filling with tears.

"Only because I was so focused on getting you back," Thorfinn answered, wrapping an arm around her to hold her even closer to his body, relishing the way that they fit together. She was so small that he wanted to keep her safe, but he knew that she was more than capable of protecting herself as well. Just as he'd always suspected, people misjudged her based on her appearance and sex. "Why are you crying?" he asked, wiping away the tear that had escaped the corner of her eyes.

Hermione broke into a smile at that. "It's just that...this is all I have ever dreamed of," she said, breathlessly. "What maiden does not dream of marrying a King? Only, my dream is better - I get to marry a man who I've known for years, who was my friend first, and who I've come to love deeply. _And_ he just happens to be the new King."

Thorfinn wore a confident smile, hearing her words. Picking her up around the waist, he enjoyed hearing her squeal in delight as he spun her around in a circle. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss, one unlike anything they had shared before in the past. His hands squeezed at her arse and he wanted nothing more than to walk her back to her chambers, but he needed to know that this was the truth. Pulling away, he set her down reluctantly. "So you will be my wife?" he asked, sounding more like an eager child than a seasoned warrior.

She threw her head back, laughing at him. "Yes, Thorfinn, I will be your _Queen_ ," she answered. Just as he was about to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder, Hermione was pushing his hands away. "Come on, now, Thorfinn, we must tell the Witen first. I am sure they are all eager to learn about the future of the Kingdom."

He sighed, but he knew that she was right. Unfortunately, it was likely to be a new feature of his life - always doing the responsible thing.

They made short work of the distance back to the Hall, only to be treated with over a dozen intrigued faces. Rabastan was looking at them with a smirk on his face. "Well, what have you decided?" he prodded, wanting the answer to everyone's question.

Hermione _tried_ to keep a serious face, but she couldn't stop herself from giggling in delight. "We will get married," she told everyone, her voice sounding regal and assured as she made the first of many pronouncements. "After all, there is no reason to let a good feast go to waste," she teased, making the assorted ealdormen laugh in agreement. King Tom had promised several weeks of feasting to celebrate his wedding, and the people who lived in Hogschester would need something to lift their morale after the invasion. They needed to project a message that things were going to continue on as usual.

Once it was decided, they were soon surrounded by well wishers, most notably Hermione's father and brothers. She was pleased that they should be able to see her get married to the man that she loved this time. Eirik also wrapped Hermione into a fierce hug, especially excited to welcome her into the family, for real, proud to call her his sister in truth.

The only one who had any trouble accepting the new King and his chosen bride was Bishop Severus, but Hermione knew she shouldn't be too surprised seeing as he didn't approve of her the first time around. Feeling a little bit bad for the sour man, she approached him cautiously. "You know nothing is going to change, Severus," Hermione said quietly to the man, so that they would not be overheard. "You will still keep the record...just, the names will be different."

"That's what you think until he starts letting vikings into the city to destroy religious relics and harm good Christians like myself," he said with a sniff.

Hermione gave him a sad smile. "Thorfinn would never allow that to happen," she promised. "But in any case, Tom had already invited Fenrir in. I think that we can all live side by side peacefully. I would like to lead by example and work side by side with you. I'm skilled. There is no reason why I cannot help you."

Severus frowned, but finally gave her a stiff little nod. "I suppose your penmanship is passable," he bit out, surely the closest thing to a compliment that she'd ever received from him. "Now, there is much to do, my Lady, if you intend to get married tonight. I need to prepare, and I suggest that _you_ do the same."

* * *

It turned out that there was much more to be done to prepare a wedding in less than a day than Hermione would have imagined. She had thought that everything would already be in place because of the day before, but there was much to do.

She refused to wear the same dress that she had worn the day before, despite it being the richest dress that she owned. Really, she refused to wear any dress that had been given to her by King Tom. In the end, Leoflaed was able to help her choose from one of her own dresses. The dress was longer than need on account of Leoflaed being several inches taller than Hermione, but it was quick work to hem it. Hermione had been certain that the deep red dress wouldn't suit her coloring, but it looked so pretty on her that Leoflaed insisted that she keep it.

Their wedding was to be a mix of Saxon and Celtic traditions, so her father and brothers had swept off with Thorfinn to determine the exchanging of swords. Leoflaed insisted on taking Hermione to bath once again, and after some cajoling, Hermione could agree. She supposed that it didn't really look right to show up to a wedding with your dead husband's blood on your hands still.

This time, Leoflaed had Theo run interference should Thorfinn try to sneak into the river again and make off with Hermione, so it was decidedly less eventful.

By the time that they were joined with the relevant people in the chapel for the actual marriage ceremony, Hermione was filled with joy and giddy at the prospect of being married to a man like Thorfinn. It was a complete change from the way that she was feeling the day before, when she'd felt sick, uneasy and on edge. Now, she couldn't wait to be joined to Thorfinn for the rest of her life.

Hermione was pleased to receive the sword that Ivar had carried from Thorfinn, and she promised to hold onto it until such a day that their son might wield it. Traditionally, she knew she was meant to give him a sword to protect her in turn. While her family did not have a sword to give Thorfinn, they did present him with a spear - a spear that had killed many of King Tom's men in battle - and Hermione knew that the intent behind the gift was more important than the actual item itself. Hermione also presented him with the dagger that had killed the King, asking him to pledge to keep her and their family safe with it. Thorfinn vowed it, with a serious look on his face.

They had performed a handfasting to honor her Celtic heritage, repeating a marriage ceremony that had been happening in Anglia for centuries over. Then, they repeated the Saxon vows, asking for Frige and Woden's blessings upon them, even if they had no Saxon priest to guide them. They exchanged rings, and begrudgingly allowed Severus to perform a Christian blessing on their union, knowing that a number of the people in their Kingdom followed this new Christian god. It would do no good to alienate them, or to call their marriage's legitimacy into question.

Before the wedding could be concluded, Severus reminded them that there was the matter of coronation. Kneeling before Severus, Thorfinn allowed the man to place the thin silvery crown on top of his head, before rising as King of Slytherin. Hermione was reminded that as there had not been a Queen for _centuries_ there had not been time to make her a crown, but that she would be receiving one of her own once the blacksmith had finished with it. She didn't mind too much - Thorfinn's crown looked heavy on his head.

Once the wedding was pronounced _finished_ , Thorfinn swept Hermione off of her feet, holding her tightly against his chest so that he could make the short walk between the small chapel and the feasting Hall. Hermione laughed and hit at his chest, telling him that he could put her down, but he insisted that he should be carrying her over any threshold she crossed that evening.

Everyone assembled was so pleased for a night of feasting and drinking after the invasion, that if they noticed the bride was the same as the night before, they did not seem to have much to say about it. Hermione was glad that everyone seemed to keep their eyes to themselves during the feast, giving her and Thorfinn time to talk to one another quietly during their meal, their hands often finding each other under the table.

When dinner was finished, Thorfinn was eager to return to her rooms for the night. "Can't we slip out now? Everyone has had so much ale that I doubt they will miss us," he whispered in her ear, his hot breath tickling her, making a delighted shiver race up and down her spine.

"We are the guests of honor, Thorfinn," she scolded, though if she was truthful, she wanted nothing more than to be alone with him. She'd spent the night before talking with everyone already, she didn't feel as if she needed to waste another night in the same way. "At least we have to stay for a few dances."

She'd never regretted words more when she found herself, nearly a dozen dances later, no closer to leaving their feast than before. She'd just wanted to dance with her family, with Eirik and Theo, and to talk to Leoflaed for a short while, but it seemed that everyone wanted to ingratiate themselves with the new Queen.

However, it was not until she was dancing with Fenrir, the large Danish man holding her much too tightly, and trying to convince her to leave her new husband and come on the seas with him, that Thorfinn finally snapped. Stomping over to her, he pulled her out of Fenrir's arms, before throwing her over his shoulder, stalking out of the Hall to the cheers of assorted guests.

Hermione was a bit embarrassed to be handled in such a way, but she couldn't stop herself from laughing. It was true that Thorfinn had gone through a lot to get to this moment.

Alone in her rooms, they were immediately on each other, giving lingering, passionate kisses, broken only by the need to remove clothing. Hermione helped Thorfinn with his belt, leaning his sword against the side of the bed should they need it for protection from some invader. Thorfinn helped her undo the delicate ties that held her over dress together, before settling her on the bed. His tunic quickly joined

Thorfinn loomed over her, before crawling up the bed where she laid. Her eyes were drawn to the ridges of his muscles, a sight that she had snuck many times before, but she was struck with the knowledge that he was now her husband, and hers alone. Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as his hands slid up the outsides of her legs, pulling her shift up over her hips. She liked the sight of his large, tanned hands against her pale skin, his callouses showing her how much he'd worked in his life.

Lifting her head, she allowed him to pull the thin fabric up over her head, revealing herself to him completely. Something in his gaze changed when he looked on her completely nude for the first time that had her feeling like she could rule the whole world. "Woden, you are beautiful, Hermione," he whispered, honestly. His hand ghosted along her side, up along the side of her breast, causing her nipples to pebble in desire, before stopping to cup her cheek tenderly. "I love you."

Wrapping her arms around him, Hermione pulled Thorfinn down to rest against her body, opening her thighs to cradle him against her. "I love you, too, Thorfinn," she answered, feeling as though their hearts were beating in unison, connected by something greater than the two of them individually.

His kisses were insistent and all consuming, filling Hermione with a need she never knew that she possessed. Wrapping her legs around him, she just knew that she wanted him closer, closer than he'd ever been before, rocking her hips back and forth against the hardness that still lay hidden in his trousers. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck while her fingers fumbled with the fabric at his hips, desperate to push it down past his hips.

She made a noise of satisfaction when she finally freed him of his pants, only to have it dissolve into a lusty moan when his mouth wrapped around one beaded nipple, his other hand deftly playing with it's twin. Her feet pushed his pants down his muscled legs and she gasped in surprise when he settled between her thighs once more, his hard length settling against her.

For as much as he seemed to desire her, it seemed as though Thorfinn was content to take his time learning her body. But, Hermione only wanted something to soothe the persistent throbbing ache between her legs. "Please Thorfinn," she begged prettily, wondering when he'd gained all of this self-restraint. The Thorfinn she'd left behind had always been hedonistic.

"I want to remember this moment forever, woman," he answered, nipping the curve of her breast with his teeth. Heading both their desires, though, he rubbed himself against the place between her legs, coating himself with her wetness, a sign of how much she longed for him.

He pressed inside of her and Hermione felt her breath leave her, at how it felt to be joined so completely with him. Thorfinn's face was something to behold, eyes clenched tight in pleasure, mouth half-open, and she felt pride to know that it was her that had brought this powerful man to such a state of vulnerability.

She tentatively rocked against him, gasping at the feel of him sliding in and out of her, and quickly repeated the action again and again. It was a bit awkward at first, but they quickly fell into a rhythm together, with Thorfinn's hands held tight at her hips. Hermione loved the feel of him on top of her, her breasts pressed against his chest, his face pressed against her neck. As his thrusts grew more erratic, he pressed a hand between them, using his thumb to circle the nub at the top of her sex, a feat which quickly sent her over the edge, gasping his name. It was not much longer before he was following her, her own name whispered into her hair.

Hermione would have been content to lie there forever, holding his large body against hers, but eventually he rolled to his side, pulling her against him. With her head resting against his chest, she let her fingers trail up and down the skin of his stomach, wondering how lucky she was to have him rather than the previous King. She knew it wouldn't be possible, should it not have been for all the changes he'd made. "I'm proud of you," she told him honestly. "You've grown to be so responsible...I am glad that you fought for me Thorfinn."

She heard his laugh rumble in his chest, before he gave her a playful pinch on the arse. "I may be responsible, but I am going to have to say, fuck all responsibilities for the next month," he told her. "I want to enjoy this full month of feasting with my Queen before I have to do anything important."

Breathing in, Hermione thought that sounded rather delightful. "I suppose that's only fair," she said with a smirk. "You _are_ the King." Snuggling further into his side, Hermione felt confident that their love could survive anything. After all, they had conquered Kingdoms for each other, separated by physical distance, but tied together by so much more than proximity. The love that they held in their hearts for each other would never die.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows along on the way with this story! I am so glad that you guys enjoyed this story! I really wasn't sure what the reception would be with the setting, but it was something that I had been wanting to write for a long while. If you enjoyed my work hear, you can check out my profile for the other things that I will be working on...the next few months are oddly Theo specific, so I hope you like that character, haha! You can also follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Also, a huge thank you to Ava Safari, who beta read this story, and was just an overall tremendous help to me during the writing process, letting me puzzle out various plot lines and giving great advice!

Please let me know what you thought of the epilogue!

* * *

Fifteen Years Later

Hearing the barking of dogs, Hermione knew that the hunting party had returned. Pressing back her chair, Hermione stood up, pressing her hand to her rounded belly.

Severus looked up at her from where he sat. "How much longer until this one, my Queen," he asked, sounding utterly annoyed, though Hermione knew that it was nothing more than an act at this point. Severus has helped educate all three of her children, and she knew that he adored them, even though they drove him a bit crazy sometimes.

"Only another month, Severus," she answered, looking at him with a grin.

He wouldn't deny that each of Hermione's children were scholars, though some enjoyed education more than others. He'd come to see the benefit of having a learned ruler in the fifteen years since Hermione had been made Queen, so much so, that he'd encouraged all ealdorment to teach their children to read and right.

"You should tell your husband not to leave so close to your time on trivial hunting trips," he scolded, though not particularly sternly. "You don't want him to miss another one."

It had become somewhat of a joke that the King made himself absent while the Queen labored. Their eldest child had been born a month early, when Thorfinn was completing his first tour of the Kingdom with his retinue. After the previous King's death, much of the leadership in the Kingdom had to be shifted, so it took much longer to sort out than it normally would. Thorfinn had granted Eirik the lands that their father had once held. He gifted Eirik's lands to Fenrir Greyback, who was more than happy to be located so close to the sea.

He had been there for the birth of their second child, no more than two years later, but he had missed the birth of their third child. Fenrir was not the only Dane in the country, and Thorfinn had been called to assist with stopping the raiding. It had taken several years before the King was able to return home, and when he did, Hermione had done so by handing him a three year old child.

It was during times of war that they were most happy to have a Queen to rule them. Hermione was able to keep everything moving smoothly in Hogschester and amongst the Kingdom despite the men being called away, which only made their Kingdom stronger. There were times when she wished she could fight alongside the rest of her people, but she knew that they were better served with her in Hogschester.

"You know the only reason that he went is because it is their birthday," Hermione told Severus fondly. "He absolutely cannot say no to them."

Walking out into the courtyard, the hunting dogs swarmed around her legs, eagerly yipping and barking at her, but they could not stop her steady progress towards her husband. Thorfinn was as tall as he was the day that they'd gotten married, but he'd only grown more imposing over the years. His broad shoulders and large arms might be frightening to some, but to Hermione they were best used to hold her.

He kept his dark blond beard cut short and today he wore his hair back in braids to keep the long locks out of his eyes, showing off his mischievous grin and sparkling eyes. He carried a large buck over his shoulders and wore a proud look that only a father could. "You will never guess who caught this dinner for you," he said, before catching her mouth in a lingering kiss.

Pulling away, she looked past her husband to the two teenagers that followed behind him. Ivar Theoson looked sheepish, his brown hair shining in the sunlight, as he locked eyes with the Queen, his aunt. Beside him walked her daughter, Sigewynn, who walked with confidence and a bow on her back. The riotous curls of her blonde hair had been pulled back into braids as well and she gave her mother the toothy grin of a young girl.

"It was I, mother," she said, flouncing over to where Hermione stood. Despite being only newly turned fourteen, Sigewynn had already grown taller than Hermione. "I killed the deer with only one shot of my bow."

"That's not true!" came a squeaky voice from behind the pair of cousins. "It took her three arrows."

Hermione smirked at her eldest son, before pulling him into a hug. "Ivar Thorfinnson, don't antagonize your sister on her birthday," she scolded, gently. Ever since Theo and Leoflaed had sent their eldest son to Hogschester to gain experience at court, everyone had resorted to using the two boys father's to differentiate the two.

Her Ivar grew to look more and more like Thorfinn each day, though he was tall and spindly, not yet having the muscle his father had, being that he was still only eleven. She tried to remember what Thorfinn had looked like when he'd come to her family's home all those years ago, and she wondered if it wasn't dissimilar to the way Ivar looked now. Except that he had her eyes, of course.

"I wasn't antagonizing her," he whined. "You just always advise us to tell the truth, and Sige wasn't."

She ruffled Ivar's hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Why don't you go liberate your little brother from his lessons, while your father and I go speak with the cook about dressing the deer," she said, catching Thorfinn's eye. Thorsten was their youngest child at age six and he was easily the wildest of their three children, never wanting to sit still long enough to read.

With the three children running off in search of the youngest aetheling, Hermione followed Thorfinn towards the butchers, knowing that they had much to discuss. "Severus wanted me to scold you for leaving me alone so close to my time again," she teased him, pressing her shoulder into his.

Thorfinn grimaced before looking at her with amusement. "You know that I don't care what Severus has to say," he said with a grin. "Besides, we weren't far. You could have sent someone to me and I would have ridden all the way home without stopping."

Hermione sighed. "I know, I just missed you," she answered, leading the way towards their private chambers. Once they were alone, Thorfinn wrapped her up in his arms, pressing an eager kiss to her lips. Pulling her towards the bed, he sat down on the edge, pulling her to stand between his legs. A large hand came to press against the swell of her stomach and she could feel their child kicking against her, just as glad to be reunited with its father as she.

"Soon, little one," he whispered, longing in his voice. "Do you think that it will be a son or a daughter this time?"

"Luna said that it was another son when she visited last month," Hermione answered, a hand against her back.

"Luna does not know everything," Thorfinn complained, never enjoying the way that Luna always looked at them, saying the oddest things whenever she and Rabastan came to visit.

Hermione smiled. "You know that she has not been wrong yet," she answered. Running her hands through his hair, she worked to loosen the braids that held it back. In turn, he used his hands to cup her arse, giving each cheek a squeeze. Hermione pulled away and smirked at her husband. "You know that you cannot distract me from the discussion at hand," she scolded. "What was decided?"

Thorfinn sighed, before flopping back against the bed. The hunting trip had not just been a birthday present for Sigewynn and Ivar Theoson. Thorfinn had also been accompanied by various ealdormen, who were always eager to hammer out alliances, getting blessings for marriages and deciding how to deal with uprisings at the edges of the Kingdom.

Most recently, he'd been hounded by Evan Rosier, who had supported Thorfinn in his campaign against Tom all those years ago, at Leoflaed's urging. He'd always been quick to press Thorfinn for additional favors, reminding him of how much his assistance had been used. Rosier was an exile from Frankia, who had designs on reclaiming his family seat - or his son to reclaim it.

"Evan is sending his eldest son to Frankia to reclaim his crown," Thorfinn said, pressing his hand against his face. "And I've agreed to give Sigewynn's hand to Evan."

Hermione always knew that a day like this would come, but she didn't want to acknowledge that it was actually happening. "But Thorfinn, she is only a child, barely turned fourteen," Hermione argued. "And I don't want her going off to Frankia to some battlezone where she might be killed! It's too dangerous."

"Don't let her hear you say that, she might just try to go on her own," Thorfinn snarked back, knowing that their girl was a warrior, who wanted nothing more than to lead an army in battle. Thorfinn had delighted in teaching her strategies when she was younger, but now that she'd grown older and more willful, he didn't trust her not to run off into a dangerous situation. "No, I've gotten Evan to agree to a wedding by proxy now, and she will join him in Frankia in two years or once he's regained the Kingdom, if he cannot accomplish it in that time."

Two years. Hermione did feel better knowing that she would have more time with her daughter to teach her, not wanting to give her up just yet. "What do you know of this Evan Evanson?" she inquired of her husband, having not met the boy before.

"He's a smart boy from what I can tell. He has a fierce drive," Thorfinn described the young man that he'd just spent the last two weeks with. He seemed to have a singular focus on reclaiming the country that he hadn't even been born in. "Though I think he's a bit too pretty. Perhaps battle will help him with that."

"Thorfinn, do not wish him ill," Hermione scolded her husband. "He is to become your son by law."

"You are right. I just don't want to give her away," he said, sounding miserable. Sigewynn had always had her father wrapped around her little finger, ever since she was a baby. She was his first born and he loved her fiercely.

Hermione laughed. "You are the King, Thorfinn," she teased. "If you do not wish to give her away, no one can make you. But, it is a good match. Sigewynn is a princess and Evan could become King in his own lands. There are few that are worthy of her hand." It was a truth that was hard to acknowledge, especially seeing as she had come from such humble beginnings herself.

Thorfinn still did not look convinced. "If you think it is such a good idea, you can tell her yourself," he suggested, staring at his lovely wife, wondering how he would accomplish anything if he did not have her by his side.

"You are right, I should be the one to tell her," Hermione agreed, knowing that it would probably come better from her own mouth. Knowing Thorfinn, he would only complicate things. "At least she will have two more years to get used to the idea."

The half-northman did feel better knowing that his wife would handle the news for their daughter. If Sigewynn looked at him with Hermione's eyes and begged him not to make her marry Evan, he was certain he would crumble. But, he felt a little guilty knowing that it was not the last ask he must make of Hermione. "There is more," he said, hearing his voice waver when Hermione narrowed her brown eyes at him.

"Yes?" she asked, crawling up the bed to lie down beside him.

"Fenrir would like to open his home to foster Thorsten. Apparently his wife hopes that he might grow to love their daughter," Thorfinn answered. Fenrir Greyback had been given an Anglo-Saxon wife, not unlike Thorfinn's own parents, in addition to his lands. Daphne Greengrass had initially been horrified to be married to a beast of a man like Fenrir, but had eventually warmed up to him, and they were now very much in love, with a gaggle of children of their own. Oswynn, their daughter was of an age with Thorsten and had all of the beauty of her mother and the mischievousness of her father.

Hermione sighed. "Must you insist on sending all of my children to far off places?" she whined, thinking that she couldn't stand to send the little boy off so far away. "He's already wild enough and you want to give him to Fenrir?"

"Fenrir will send us two of his sons in return," Thorfinn said with a shrug of his shoulders, knowing that Kingly life was an endless web of marriages, fosterings, and alliances. It was all a delicate balance to make sure that no one fought with one another at the risk of harming their own kin. "And, I think it will be good for Thorsten."

"He's only six. He's still my baby, and I am not ready to send him so far away," Hermione said, with a wobble in her voice.

"We can wait a year, but you know that Fenrir's lands are not so far away," Thorfinn consoled her, pressing a kiss to her cheek, wishing that he didn't have to send his son away, but knowing it was for the good of the Kingdom. "You haven't toured the Kingdom with me in many years. Perhaps you will join me again, once this one is born."

"Frank and Dane, you know that we are going to have to marry Ivar to a Saxon to keep everyone happy," Hermione said resting her hands on her belly. "And probably this little one as well." Sometimes the people of the Kingdom can be so fickle, never wanting it to seem as though one cultural group was gaining a foothold above them. Hermione was proud at how harmoniously everyone lived most of the time, but there was always a threat of something bubbling up underneath. She hoped that one day they could all form one culture, and leave their old lives behind. Perhaps her own children's marriages would be a good way to do that.

She pressed her head against Thorfinn's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She longed to spend the entire afternoon with him locked away in their rooms, but knew that was not likely to happen. There were children to speak with and feasts to be had. She would relish every last minute she had with her children before they went off to forge their own paths in life.

And, no matter the physical distance, she knew that she and Thorfinn were connected by some unseen thread, only strengthened by war, love and family. "I love you, husband," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I am so happy that you never gave up your love for me."

Thorfinn took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. "I love you, too, my Queen - Hermione, daughter of Eni, and descendent of Cartimandua herself," he teased her lovingly. "I'm just glad I got you to give me a chance."

Closing her eyes, trying to enjoy the afternoon sun, Hermione smiled hearing their hearts beat as one.


End file.
